This is the only prom knight I will give my consent to when it comes to my daughter and dating. I am forging a cod piece as we speak. No cod piece, no date.
I had a frightening dream last night. In it, I was wearing an alpine yodeler outfit. The kind with the brown shorts, the white knee-high socks, and the little cap with the feather in it.
Wait, it gets scarier.
I was on vacation with my family. Our kids were older, and my daughter had a boyfriend with her. A space ship landed, and an alien came out yodeling the theme from “Close Encounters.” My wife was calling to me, trying to be heard over the yodeling alien, when I finally heard her cry out in utter desperation:
The cat likes to play checkers.
As you might expect, I woke up in a cold sweat, unable to shake that vivid, terrifying image of—that’s right:
My daughter with a boyfriend.
True, she’s only 11 years old right now. But time passes quickly, and in another 15 years she’ll begin dating. To me, this dream was a clear indication that I should begin preparing myself for the inevitable. When I explained this to my wife, she laughed.
I’ve seen drunken pirates with more emotional restraint. Continue reading