Talia was going to her first prom. The boy who was taking her is a notorious prankster, so I knew I could take a few liberties.
He showed up at the house and began shuffling down the walkway. I had positioned myself on our porch with my feet up and Seth Jr.’s bee-bee gun conspicuously on my lap.
As the boy approached the house, I sat up and shouted down to him, “OK, stop right there!”
He looked up at me, clearly petrified. I have carefully cultivated a scary reputation among the would-be suitors in our area. It begins with my daughters. I tell them that I love them and that they deserve only the best. I tell them that I’m going to look out for them and to be ready. They seem to like it.
“OK,” I went on, “I want you to take your hands out of your pockets!”
Joe Cool in his tuxedo was right where I wanted him. Hands came out of pockets. He looked up at the crazy man on the porch wondering what he’d gotten himself into and if it was too late to back out.
“Now turn slowly around so I can see you!”
Obediently he moved around with his arms outstretched. I think my daughter was watching the whole scene in awe from an upstairs window. It was playing out as I intended and I allowed a small smile to spread across my lips.
“OK, I guess you’re alright,” I lowered the gun. “What were you here for?”
Eventually he scurried inside, grateful for the protection of my daughter. The rest of my kids loved the show. I don’t think we worried about them coming home by curfew.
When another young suitor asked for permission to “see” one of my daughters last year, I wrote him an email, “Right now, you are the most dangerous person in my life,” I began.
Of course it’s all in good fun. Too many Dads are crouching in a defensive posture, in danger of being routed by a bunch of pimply-faced chuckleheads who have never been put in their place. It’s about time we did so.
Program note: So far I have one taker on my discipling offer from yesterday’s blog.