My wife doesn't want me to have a gun. But we have held off long enough. I understand that safely owning a gun requires a lot of responsibility. I have heard all of the arguments for owning and not owning a gun. But there is one argument FOR gun ownership that speaks to me in a way that no other pro or anti argument ever has done before it... My oldest daughter is turning 13 this year...
I'm getting a gun!
I'm sorry. I used the term "a gun". What I really meant to say was that I'm getting SEVERAL guns... and some snares... a few land mines... a katana... a yo-yo... a boomerang... some rocks... a couple of sticks... some Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (for bait)... an XBox (as a distraction)... and a rocket launcher! (I probably don't NEED the rocket launcher but I believe anything worth doing is worth doing right (paraphrased from a statement made years ago by someone I didn't even know).)
I don't care what side you are on gun control, there should always be a clause in there that will allow a father to protect his daughter from a potential boyfriend. And I'm not just talking about protecting her against the bad boys. The good little boys can stay home too! They are not welcome here either. My daughters are not allowed to date until they're 30. Then it's only a double-date with me and the Mrs. This is a steadfast rule and there is ZERO room for negotiation. I have already compromised on this once. The dating age used to be 45!
I know some of you are asking, "But what about your sons? Do you have the same rule for your sons as your daughters?" And for those of you who would question my ethics and believe that I would have a different set of rules for my sons than for my daughters, I would say to you... That is ridiculous! I would never single out my kids based solely on their gender. That is a terrible message to send to your children and I will have no part of the double standard ideology. I plan to treat my sons the same way I treat my daughters. And those statements would hold true even if I had sons (which I don't). I treat ALL of my children equally. (Hee, hee. Nanner nanner boo boo! You thought you had me!)
But I know it's getting close to that age (not 30, mind you). I have been dreading it like you dread sitting on the toilet in the middle of the night because you know it's going to wake you up with its subfreezing seat. And I also want her to wait a few more years because I'm in the potty training stages with the little one. (Men don't like to multi-task.) And at the rate the little one is going, my daughter will be 30 by the time that happens so the timing works out perfectly. I might just make that the house rule, though. When baby goes potty, you can go party. (I'm sure I will have to adjust that house rule so that it doesn't imply that she is ever allowed to party in any way, form or fashion. I will also have to adjust it to make sure I reserve the right to change it completely (and I will) when the little one actually goes to potty.)
And parents, be warned... If you send your son over to my house to see my daughter you had better be prepared to have your son return a changed man. It's nothing personal. Any son that plans on coming over to even ask my daughters hand in friendship will have to pass several tests (that are impossible to pass). He will then write a 12-page essay of his intentions with my daughter. I will have him sign it, date it and get it notarized to make it official. THEN and only then will I even let him through the front door. That's when the formal interview process will begin. (You can't be too careful these days.) He gets bonus points if he comes in with a job and credit history readily available. (Remember, this doesn't start until my daughter is 30. So these are not unreasonable requests.)
After he passes that (which he wont) the guns come into play. I'm not going to go into detail as to my plans for the arsenal because a potential friend of my daughter might read this ahead of time and will know what to expect. And I cant give him ANY advantage in all of this. Also, I've been told by my lawyer I don't need to put that sort of information in writing (especially a public forum) for legal reasons. But lets just say... that's where the real fun begins.
But for the real fun to begin, I will need to purchase the above list. And I WILL have a gun (guns) and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Again, I understand the responsibility required to own one. But age 13 is quickly approaching. So a few purchases are in order. Then, maybe, one day... in the future... I'm not sure how far yet... but definitely ONE DAY.... I will see if my wife will let me buy some bullets.
Showing posts with label daughters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daughters. Show all posts
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Gymnastics... A Father's Curse
I am the father of 3 girls (insert: SPUDS joke on not putting the stem on the apple (totally ripped from Cosby!)). So my dreams of watching my son(s) throw the game-winning pass in Super Bowl L have been all but shot. I could look at it that if the little cells carrying Y-Chromosomes weren't even quick enough to make it to the egg in the first place then why should I think that they would even have made good football players anyway. But I choose to not look at it that way. They would have played and they would have been GREAT!
So... Where does that leave me? I'm competitive by nature. I love sports. And I have NO PROBLEM living my dreams through my kids. So one way or another, they were going to play something. I'm the father and that's just the way it goes! So what are my *ahem* daughters' choices? Well... The 2 youngest are too young to really have a say so we will have to focus on the 10-year old.
She doesn't particularly like kicking things. So no soccer or martial arts. She doesn't really like hitting things. There goes softball, tennis and golf. She can't swim very well. That takes out... well... swimming. She's not that fast of a runner. So no track (or field... doesn't like throwing things either). Just when we were about to give up, she turns a cartwheel in the yard and a STAR IS BORN! Gymnastics it is.
Just to temporarily fast forward... My daughter is AWESOME at gymnastics! She has improved over years. I am amazed every time I see her doing anything on the bars and beam. I am amazed about the other things too. But the bars and beam make me excited and nervous at the same time. In a recent event (that I missed because of an injury of my own (another post probably)) she received 2 gold medals and was 1 slip-up away from receiving a silver in the all-around. So she's got skillz! And no matter what she does out there I think she's great! Therein lies the problem for fathers.
Rules of Baseball: You pitch, I hit. If I hit and no one catches, I run. I hit it far enough, I keep running. If I run all the way back home, I score. If I do that more times than you, I WIN!
Rules of Basketball: I bounce the ball. You try to take the ball. If you miss, I keep bouncing. If you try to take it again, I bounce it behind my back, between my legs, off your forehead and then bounce it some more. Then when I'm done bouncing the ball, I shot it at a hoop. If it goes in, I score. If I do that more times than you, I WIN!
Rules of Football: Someone hikes me the ball. I either throw it to someone or I hand it to someone. We keep doing this pattern until someone stops us or we get to the other side of the field. When we get to the other side of the field we try to cross the opponents goal line. If we cross the goal line, we score. If we score, we do a silly dance, jump into the stands with fans, reenact a scene from Shakespeare or just slam the ball down so you know we scored. If we do more dances than you or more scenes of Romeo and Juliette than you, WE WIN!
Rules of Gymnastics: ???
That is not to say that there are no rules to Gymnastics. That's to say that there is a clear-cut and very concise scoring system. It's a fathers dream! It's very technical (even down to the tenths, hundredths and thousandths of a point (that's 3 digits on the RIGHT side of the decimal (even money doesn't do that))). It's logical (a standing back tuck means you from the standing position you do a back flip while tucking your legs in your body). It flows in a predictable pattern (If I do this, that happens (If I fall, I lose this many points)).
But then... There's this seedy underbelly that they don't tell you about... The JUDGES!!! I mean no offense to the judges in this sports (especially to those that might be judging my daughter's future performances). I'm sure this is a tough job. But I personally think this position was created just to curse fathers! First off... What gives them the right to judge my daughter anyway? And you mean to tell me that I have to sit there and take it when this "judge" gets a headache halfway through the meet and starts to judge harder... and my daughter competes LAST. I just have to suck it up when the judge looks away to write something or sneeze or daydream about whales when little-miss-crooked-cartwheel performs but is watching my daughter like a hawk ready to a pounce a field mouse. That's where I lose it! My daughter's routine was a 9.7 and YOUR critical analysis says "hmmm... 8.2." Now it's not a sport any more... now IT'S PERSONAL!
I must end now. Just thinking about it is making the curse come back. And for the record, I can neither confirm nor deny anything that happened to the car of one of the judges at the last meet. I didn't even know she drove a 2005 hunter green Honda Accord with 68,423 miles and a coffee stain under the floor mat on the rear passengers' side of the vehicle. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
So... Where does that leave me? I'm competitive by nature. I love sports. And I have NO PROBLEM living my dreams through my kids. So one way or another, they were going to play something. I'm the father and that's just the way it goes! So what are my *ahem* daughters' choices? Well... The 2 youngest are too young to really have a say so we will have to focus on the 10-year old.
She doesn't particularly like kicking things. So no soccer or martial arts. She doesn't really like hitting things. There goes softball, tennis and golf. She can't swim very well. That takes out... well... swimming. She's not that fast of a runner. So no track (or field... doesn't like throwing things either). Just when we were about to give up, she turns a cartwheel in the yard and a STAR IS BORN! Gymnastics it is.
Just to temporarily fast forward... My daughter is AWESOME at gymnastics! She has improved over years. I am amazed every time I see her doing anything on the bars and beam. I am amazed about the other things too. But the bars and beam make me excited and nervous at the same time. In a recent event (that I missed because of an injury of my own (another post probably)) she received 2 gold medals and was 1 slip-up away from receiving a silver in the all-around. So she's got skillz! And no matter what she does out there I think she's great! Therein lies the problem for fathers.
Rules of Baseball: You pitch, I hit. If I hit and no one catches, I run. I hit it far enough, I keep running. If I run all the way back home, I score. If I do that more times than you, I WIN!
Rules of Basketball: I bounce the ball. You try to take the ball. If you miss, I keep bouncing. If you try to take it again, I bounce it behind my back, between my legs, off your forehead and then bounce it some more. Then when I'm done bouncing the ball, I shot it at a hoop. If it goes in, I score. If I do that more times than you, I WIN!
Rules of Football: Someone hikes me the ball. I either throw it to someone or I hand it to someone. We keep doing this pattern until someone stops us or we get to the other side of the field. When we get to the other side of the field we try to cross the opponents goal line. If we cross the goal line, we score. If we score, we do a silly dance, jump into the stands with fans, reenact a scene from Shakespeare or just slam the ball down so you know we scored. If we do more dances than you or more scenes of Romeo and Juliette than you, WE WIN!
Rules of Gymnastics: ???
That is not to say that there are no rules to Gymnastics. That's to say that there is a clear-cut and very concise scoring system. It's a fathers dream! It's very technical (even down to the tenths, hundredths and thousandths of a point (that's 3 digits on the RIGHT side of the decimal (even money doesn't do that))). It's logical (a standing back tuck means you from the standing position you do a back flip while tucking your legs in your body). It flows in a predictable pattern (If I do this, that happens (If I fall, I lose this many points)).
But then... There's this seedy underbelly that they don't tell you about... The JUDGES!!! I mean no offense to the judges in this sports (especially to those that might be judging my daughter's future performances). I'm sure this is a tough job. But I personally think this position was created just to curse fathers! First off... What gives them the right to judge my daughter anyway? And you mean to tell me that I have to sit there and take it when this "judge" gets a headache halfway through the meet and starts to judge harder... and my daughter competes LAST. I just have to suck it up when the judge looks away to write something or sneeze or daydream about whales when little-miss-crooked-cartwheel performs but is watching my daughter like a hawk ready to a pounce a field mouse. That's where I lose it! My daughter's routine was a 9.7 and YOUR critical analysis says "hmmm... 8.2." Now it's not a sport any more... now IT'S PERSONAL!
I must end now. Just thinking about it is making the curse come back. And for the record, I can neither confirm nor deny anything that happened to the car of one of the judges at the last meet. I didn't even know she drove a 2005 hunter green Honda Accord with 68,423 miles and a coffee stain under the floor mat on the rear passengers' side of the vehicle. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
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