Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better
be delivering a package, because you're sure 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. Please don't take this as
an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots.
Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so
I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your
underwear showing and your pants ten sizes to big, and I will
not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not,
in fact, come off during the course of you date with my daughter
, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers
securely in place 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 elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and
I will kill you.
Rule Five: It is usually understood that in order for us to get
to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and
other issues of the day. Please do not do this. 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. This is fine with me as
long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, 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 the movie, you should
not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process
than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge.
Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something
useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date
with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or
anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is
darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or
happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough
to introduce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff
T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a
goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong
romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which
features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks
homes are better.
Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied,
balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating
to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your
universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you
have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five
acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten: Be afraid,. Be very afraid. It takes very little for
me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a
chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent
Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently
tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter
home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit
the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter
password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my
daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there
is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the
window is mine.