I had planned to write something about the end of the political dodgeball season and something real smarty-like about campaigns, candidates and whackos….but I lost interest.
I know I should have something brainy to say about all this 2012 election season, but maybe I am as worn down and worn out as the woman who called me yesterday. She said she will not turn on her TV again until sometime in 2016.
That being the case, I did have a legal brainstorm I have been considering the last few weeks. Now seems as good a time as any to try it out.
I have a daughter. Like many fathers I know, my daughter knows much more than I do… just ask her.
Now my Little Miss Know Everything just graduated from college and I, politely, suggested an idea to her. Let’s say I floated a trial ballon. Kind of like a president’s staff on Friday afternoon leaking a story so it breaks Saturday morning when everyone is doing their laundry.
I said to my dear daughter, “What do you say to me helping you pick your boyfriends.”
I pointed out that I happen to be something of an authority on the subject. I was once a male, before I got old and had a daughter; now I am simply living a near-death experience.
My suggestion was not well received. I recall the words “crazy” and “nursing home” being placed in the same sentence.
Here is where I came up with a better idea—the first right of refusal.
I thought this was reasonable. I am not asking to line up the boyfriends, per se (legal talk thrown in for effect), but just do a little reference check, like an employer might do. I suggest a background check and all I would need to do is look at the little creep.
I can be fair-minded. Not every boy on earth my daughter’s age is an irresponsible pile of pusillanimous pus (more legal talk to make me sound smart), just all of them I’ve seen so far. I have hope. Some people think I’m Mr. Happy. Even some people in Enumclaw… really.
I think I could get a number of fathers to join me in this reasonable request.
I admit my idea was not well received. I am pretty sure the words “crazy” and “nursing home” came up again.
It is probably safer to stay in the world of political mudslinging and aggravating the misinformed than crossing swords with my daughter.
But it seems like I should get to win at least once.
Oh well, time to return the near-death hayride.