Ten simple rules for dating my daughter...
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
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.
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 his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
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.
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."
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.
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 that 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?
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 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, 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.
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted 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.
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 your 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.
I regret to inform you that you have been eliminated from further contention as "The Perfect Guy [ ] Girl [ ]". As you are probably aware, the competition was exceedingly tough and dozens of well-qualified candidates such as yourself also failed to make the final cut.
I will, however, keep your name on file should an opening come available. So that you may find better success in your future romantic endeavors, please allow me to offer the following reason(s) you were disqualified from the competition:
(Check those that apply)
___Your last name is objectionable. I can't imagine taking it, hyphenating it, or subjecting my children to it.
___Your first name is objectionable. It's just not something I can picture myself yelling out in a fit of passion.
___The fact that our first dining experience to date has left MY wallet a little lighter, and YOUR pants a little tighter!
___Your inadvertent admission that you "buy condoms by the truckload" indicates that you may be interested in me for something other than my personality.
___You failed the 20 Question Rule, i.e., I asked you 20 questions about yourself before you asked me more than one about myself.
___Your legs are skinnier than mine. If you can FIT into my pants, then you can't GET into my pants.
___You're too short. Any son that we produced would inevitably be beaten up repeatedly at recess.
___You're too tall. I'm developing a chronic neck condition from trying to kiss you.
___You have a hairy back.
___I find your inability to fix my car extraordinarily unappealing.
___The fact that your apartment has been condemned reveals an inherent slovenliness that I fear is unbreakable.
___The phrase "My Mother" has popped up far too often in conversation.
___Although I do enjoy the X-Files, I find your wardrobe of Star Trek uniforms a little disconcerting.
___Your frequent references to your ex-girlfriend lead me to suspect that you are some sort of psychotic stalker.
___Your ability to belch the alphabet is not a trait that I am seeking in a long term partner.
___Your height is out of proportion to your weight. If you should, however, happen to gain the necessary 17 vertical inches, please resubmit your application.
___Somehow I doubt those condoms that I found in your overnight bag were really necessary for a successful business trip.
___I am out of your league; set your sights lower next time.