Mr. Yoest’s 10 Simple Rules for Dating My Daughters

My Dating Rules version. With thanks to and permission from W. Bruce Cameron the originator.

Update: Yes, Cameron is still alive. John Ritter has passed on. (Roman Polanski has not. Life is not fair.)

Mr. Yoest’s Ten Simple Rules for Dating My Daughters

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.

8 Simple Rules for

Dating My Daughter

by W. Bruce Cameron

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 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 the 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 using 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 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 it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with one of my little girls, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. You might have heard about her other two sisters, but you will not look. If you make her cry, I 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 sofas, beds, 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 my old Army Field Jacket – zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature power tools are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:

Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a middle-aged, gray-headed, dimwitted has-been. But 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 a half acre behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:

Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to drift back a few years to my Army days and mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a hostile vehicle. Whenever I hear engines at night, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the weapons, probably 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. Announce the perimeter password, relay 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.

Have a nice time!

Adapted from Anonymous. John Wesley Yoest, Jr., a former Army Captain, is a management consultant.

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Thank you (foot)notes:

Permission for use was graciously granted. It didn’t matter that I bought LOTS of Cameron’s books — which he also graciously autographed — and gave to friends and made them required reading for the Penta-Posse.

Be sure to follow Your Business Blogger(R) and Charmaine on Twitter: @JackYoest and @CharmaineYoest

Jack and Charmaine also blog at Reasoned Audacity and at Management Training of DC, LLC.

Also see Father Failure.

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