Posted on 03/15/2012 9:29:59 AM PDT by Altariel
Having a teenage daughter is a bit like living in the middle of a zombie movie. There will be a knock on the door, and when you open it you'll find standing there a smelly, unwashed, slack-faced male wearing ill-fitting clothes and wanting to take your daughter on a date. When she appears from where she has been shoveling on her makeup, he'll regard her with that zombie-hunger in his eyes.
Your natural impulse is to get rid of this one, but doing so doesn't improve things: There are others out there, a whole zombie army, shambling and moaning toward your home.
And what's really discouraging is that this is just the opening skirmish. As time passes, the zombies become more cunning. They learn how to penetrate your defenses, offering to help you around the house, disarming you with their seeming willingness to respect you. And then suddenly, one of them wants to marry your daughter, and you realize that you were lulled into a false sense of security.
Before this happens to you, I suggest you post these 8 Simple Rules to your front door, for all the zombies to read and heed.
Rule No. 1: If you neglected to ask my permission before you proposed to my daughter, don't worry about it. You can make it up to me by making sure your wedding is both beautiful and to a different woman.
Rule No. 2: There are many, many men your age in this world, but there is only one woman who is my daughter. She is unique. You, on the other hand, can be replaced at any time.
Rule No. 3: It has been my job all my life to make my daughter happy. Now it will be your job. My job will be to make sure you do your job. And don't think that just because my daughter has picked you it means you meet my personal standards for what is good for her. I haven't made up my mind yet and will be evaluating you over a time period known as "forever."
Rule No. 4: You may be wondering how to address me: "Dad"? "Bruce"? "Mr. Cameron"? Let's end the awkwardness. For the time being, I suggest you stick with "sir." Sample phrases to help you become accustomed to this term: "May I wash your car for you today, sir?" "Are there any tasks that I can do around the house while you watch the ballgame, sir?" "Is there anything I can do to make your life better, sir?"
Rule No. 5: Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that any man who wishes to marry my daughter should have a good job and a successful career. I'm not saying you need to be the sole source of income, but I am saying if you don't take care of my daughter, I will take care of you.
Rule No. 6: You do not have a legal contract with my daughter — she can break off the engagement if she wants and there is nothing you can do about it except change your name and move out of the country. The same goes for you: I would not want you marrying my daughter if you do not truly feel you are the right man for her, nor, if you break it off, would I want you marrying anybody else. Ever.
Rule No. 7: You may, in a very male episode of last-minute panic, decide that you need to sow some wild oats right before the wedding. Let's define our roles: If you are the sower, I will be your reaper.
Rule No. 8: The vows you will be taking commit you to be faithful to my daughter "'til death do you part." Be advised if you break your vows, I'll immediately exercise the second part of the contract.
Naturally, there's more to the whole equation than just what I've got here. These rules are excerpted from my new book, "8 Simple Rules for Marrying My Daughter" (Fireside, April 2008). If you've got a daughter, I suggest you pick up a copy before the zombies breach your defenses.
To write Bruce Cameron, visit his Website at www.wbrucecameron.com. To find out more about Bruce Cameron and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.
Source Link: http://www.creators.com/lifestylefeatures/humor/bruce-cameron/the-8-simple-rules-for-marrying-my-daughter.html
Great rules: but they mean absolutely NOTHING to most of the ‘daughters’ I see out an about these days.
I have one simple rule,”If you make her cry,I’ll make you cry.”
He missed a classic rule:
“You hurt her, I hurt you.”
Iffin I had me a daughter I’d be happy if the kid who showed up at my door wasn’t wearing an Obama shirt and didn’t have 20 lbs of metal hanging out of his face. (if he’s a good kid I could live with the metal)
Love Rule Number 8.
A very good description of the parade of horrifying male creatures that my daughter brought home when she was in high school.
Thankfully, none of them stuck around long. She is now happily married to a former Army soldier and raising two beautiful kids.
Now her husband will have to deal with the zombies in a few years. Hehe.
Many married men, after about 10 years of bitching, consider “Till Death Do Us Part” to be a goal, rather than a commitment.
:)
I knew from the start that my hubby would never be inclined to 'lay hands' on me in that fashion; it's one of the many reasons I chose him. But he was quite aware that he wouldn't have to wait for my Daddy, or my brothers, or anyone else to put the hurt on him; he knew I'd be quite capable of doing that myself. ;o)
A daughter is my worse fear in life. I’m very fortunate to have two sons, I only have to worry about 2 dicks, not every dick in the neighbourhood.
Nice list, but where is the list about being a good and faithul womern to our sons?
This is by far my favorite iteration (Heh, I found that I posted a new thread with it back in 2004 on FR when I searched on Google)
Rules of dating a Drill Instructors daughter
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 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.
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 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?
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 features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. 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 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.
“Son... I’ve got a .45, a shovel, and 20 acres out back. I doubt you’ll be missed.”
“Nice list, but where is the list about being a good and faithul womern to our sons?”
Yeah, when I read posts like this I wonder why the originator wouldn’t have the same list for their sons?? It’s like, “Treat my daughter great, but I don’t give a cr@p about how you treat my son.”
Sheesh.
In all seriousness, the boy she likes and spends time with is a real good kid and gets along with my boys and me real well.
bookmark
My FIL took me aside and quietly told me, “If you hurt her, I’ll have you killed”. I do believe meant it.
ROTFLMAO!
BOOYEAH! Printing this out now for use when my son turns 16 and my daughter 20. She will not be dating before that time. Not unless I am driving of course.
There is always the old standby: “I got no problem going back to Prison!”
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