RULE ONE. If you pull into my driveway and honk, you'd better be delivering a package, because you're not picking anything up.
RULE TWO. You will 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 my daughter's body, I will remove them.
RULE THREE. I am aware it's considered fashionable for boys to wear their trousers so loose that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and 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 my door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. In order to ensure your pants do not come off during your date with my daughter, however, I will fasten them securely in place with my electric nail gun.
RULE FOUR. You may have been told that in today's world, sex without a "barrier method" can kill you. When it comes to sex with my daughter, I am the barrier method, and I am the one who will do the killing.
RULE FIVE. Social practice suggests that, to know each other better, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please don't bother. The only information I require from you is when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house. The only answer I need from you is "Early."
RULE SIX. I have no doubt you're a popular fellow who can date any girl he wishes. This is fine with me if it's okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
RULE SEVEN. Please do not sigh and fidget as you stand in my front hallway waiting for my daughter to appear, even if more than an hour goes by. 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 not do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
RULE EIGHT. The following locations are not appropriate places for a date with my daughter: *Places with beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. *Places that are dark. *Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or excessive happiness. *Places where the 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 strong romantic or sexual themes. The following locations are appropriate places for a date with my daughter: *Movies with chainsaws. *Hockey games. *Old folks homes.
RULE NINE. Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a balding, middle-aged, pot-bellied has-been, but when it comes to my daughter, I am the all-knowing and merciless God of your universe. If I ask you where you're going and with whom, you have exactly one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I have a shovel, five acres behind the house, and a shotgun. Do not trifle with me.
RULE TEN. Above all, be afraid. Be very afraid. As I wait for you to bring my daughter home, the voices in my head tell me frequently to clean the shotgun mentioned in Rule Nine. Once home with my daughter, exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, and announce in a clear, enunciated 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.
