To all you dads-of-daughters out there, it’s never to soon to learn this key phrase:
“Sorry, but you’re like the Son-in-Law I never wanted…”
By the time you’re reading this, it’s probably already too late. If you came here looking for sage elderly advice on how to pull the perfect Valentine’s Day surprise out of your keister at the very last second–and why else would you be spending the most romantic of the day of the year here, with me1The only right answer here is that you, Dear Reader, are none other than the Boss Lady. But we all know that that is truly a ridiculous fantasy, amiright? of all people?–let’s just say that I was hoping I could ask you the same thing.
So as long as we’re clear on that point, we can get on with the show. I just didn’t want to hear you howling’ and hollerin’ at the end, asking for your money back because I didn’t save your procrastinating ass like you thought I had somehow promised and what-not. You wouldn’t believe the amount of belly-achers one would find roaming around these parts of the internet. *Sigh* But I digress…
Now, where were we?2Mother- ----- This is a quote from The Princess Bride, but all of the clips on YouTube cut off right before they get to this line from the opening scene. Dammit, you wouldn’t believe how much time I wasted trying to hunt that down for your viewing pleasure. But it’s riiiiight after this scene: https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x4bqtr8. Oh, right. I was in the middle of being a disillusioned ol’ hopeless romantic. I mean, I’m not one to complain about the joys of the institution of marriage, or anything. It’s just that if you’ve been building up your expectations for what “Wuv, Twue Wuv”3That’s a The Princess Bride reference, of course: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bY0fdgpISc is, like, since before you could read, then you’re bound to be a little off-target by time you get a taste of the real deal.
Awhile back, I foreshadowed future flashbacks in which would further illustrate that I was rather quite the little stud muffin in my early years. Specifically, in Back-To-School Not-So-Special, I left you hanging with the stunning reveal that I had multiple girlfriends during my First Grade year.
Apparently I was really gung-ho into the dating scene back then, never taking my eyes off the ultimate prize: spending an eternity with one–and only one–fine young lass.
This wouldn’t have been so bad had I not got cocky and left a paper trail of my way-too-early intentions. Come Valentine’s Day 1988, Peaches–er, I mean “Mae”–and I were taking a break, so I was left free to focus all my love and romantic intentions on the other lady in my life, Micky.4Not her real name, but you know who you are.
How this played out in reality was that she got way too many gifts from me, like a bracelet made out of all different color hearts, and multiple Valentine’s Day cards. These cards featured no-that’s-not-creepy-at-all messages such as:
- “I’m so in love with you!”
- “Will you marry me?”
- “You’re such a hottie!”
- “We definitely should get married.”
- “Nice ass.”5Okay, so this one didn’t really happen.
- “We’re going to have the cutest kids.”
- “Let’s get matching tattoos!”
- “Be mine. FOREVER.”
You know, harmless kid stuff. Except…except that somehow her dad–who, fun fact was the Best Man in my dad’s post-my-mom wedding–came across her little trove of tokens of affection from me.
Now, I don’t remember if what came next took place at the Valentine’ party at school, and he just happened to be there to pick Micky up, or if he made it a point to come to school specifically to talk to me, but either way he sat down and had a little heart-to-heart with 7-year-old me.
He didn’t really seem angry so much as, “Dear Lord, how do I deal with this young man with so much…premature passion?!?” In fact, he seemed a little embarrassed to have to set me straight, so to speak, and the part about that interaction that has stuck with me for 33 years was him giving an awkward chuckle before commenting, “It might be a bit early to be thinking about marriage, son…maybe in 20 years from now, yeah, sure.”
Of course my first reaction was to die of pure embarrassment. I mean, not only did her dad stumble upon what was the mid-80s equivalent of pecker-pics, but instead of being a considerate and thoughtful future father-in-law and pulling a Delores-From-Westworld and claiming “[It] doesn’t look like anything to me,”6https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXQ512JgDbw he goes and makes sure I know he knows. I mean, passive-aggressive much, bud?
Now, I may have only been in First Grade, but I could already handle mental math of that magnitude, and so immediately my second reaction was, “You’re one crazy mother- ----- if you think I’m going to sit around with my ----- in my hand until I’m 27! Please! I’d die if I had to wait that long to unleash my pure romantic prowess on a young lady!”
And here we are decades later, looking back, and my third reaction is, “Dang…Rod-strodamus was pretty spot-on. Lo & behold, I really did sit around with my ----- in my hand until I was 27 before this majestic beast was unleashed on the Boss Lady–amazing!”
Of course, this little Valentine’s Dinner of ours wouldn’t be complete without a fourth and final course, so let’s end this with my fourth reaction.
You know how when you go on to marry somebody completely different than your First Grade girlfriend but somehow–surprise, surprise–she turns out to be way better, and then you have a daughter or two of your own with this non-First-Grade-girlfriend, and then the older one hits pre-pre-puberty and you find out that her friend who is also 7 but a boy has been yelling “I love you” at her after their socially-distanced play dates and you’re just like “Shit, I like that kid and don’t want to have to casually show him my gun collection” and you really could use some sage elderly advice?
Well, now thanks to Rod-strodamus, you’ll know exactly how to deal with that little overly ambitious Romeo: just cast the 20-Years Of Celibacy hex on him, and–BOOM!–problem solved! After all, if you had to involuntarily learn the hard way the true meaning of that annoying phrase “Twue Wove Waits,” then why the hell should I–er, I mean “you”– suffer alone?
But you know what–and Boss Lady, I’m talking to you–those 20 years of “suffering” has only made the last 13 years all that much sweeter, because–and I regret to inform you that I need to drop another trite and overused cliche on ya–“It was worth the wait.”
Well, what do ya know? I guess this ol’ hopeless romantic is still hopeless as ever.
Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all!
Content created on: 13/14 February 2021 (Sat/Sun)
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