Eight Rules

Eight Rules
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father. Holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds. As a dad now myself, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as hell not picking anything up.

Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, however, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will use my electric staple gun to fasten your trousers securely to your waist.

Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me assure you, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and death will be swift and sure.

Rule Five: We DO NOT need to talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day in order for us to get to know each other. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early. "

Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. Once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.

Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for a movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge

Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything more comfortable than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, or midriff T-shirts. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; Hockey games are okay.

My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too - there are only eight of them, for crying out loud!

And just for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate - that my wood burning set would be much more effective.

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