10 Rules for Dating My Daughter

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk, you'd better be
delivering a package, because you are 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 for you.

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 too big, and I will not object. However, 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.

Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex
without utilizing a "barrier method" can kill you. Allow me to
elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill
you.

Rule Five: 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 that you are a popular fellow, with many
opportunities to date other girls. Frankly, I would much rather you
did. However, if you absolutely must go 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 that can take longer
than painting the Sistine Chapel. Instead of just standing there, you
may demonstrate to me why I should tolerate your existence by such
acts as say, 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 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
feature chain saws wielded on unsuspecting teenage girls by males of
your age group and general appearance 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 and vengeful god of your
universe. If I ask you where you are going and what you will be
doing, you have one very brief 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 dare to trifle with me.

Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very, 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 outside of Da Nang. When my Agent Orange
start acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean
the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. The moment you
pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands held
high over your head. Speak the perimeter password, announce that you
have brought my daughter safely home, then return to your car and
leave immediately once she has exited the vehicle - Do not attempt to
come inside or even follow her to the door. The camouflaged face in
the window is mine, as is the ruby red beam of laser-light targeted
directly at the center of your chest.