Father’s Day

My Dad is the protective type. Not the Southern US protective type with a gun, but he can be pretty scary both when you don’t and when you do know him. Today, the question showed up on Twitter: “Are Dads wrong to be protective of their girls, or is it ‘her body, her rules’”?

Now “protective” has a wide range of interpretations and I’m pretty damn sure that there are quite a few that are total no-noes (see the thing with the guns). But looking back from my settled and married perspective: the guys that didn’t make it past my Dad were not worth my time.

Example? There was one guy who my Dad served black pasta to (you know, the kind that is colored with sepia). Admittedly unusual, but come on, dude, did you have to put your napkin over the full plate so you didn’t even have to look at the pasta? I was so embarrassed, I broke that relationship off quickly. And that was for the better (I’ve googled my ex-boyfriends).

Now my husband isn’t scared easily. He’s also an awesome cook so scaring him with foodstuffs won’t work unless you burn lamb chops into a shoe sole – and then he will run away only for fifteen minutes – to bitch without the cook over-hearing or possibly to even cry a little for the poor little lamb that died for no good reason. Of course, it might have also helped my husband that his own mother is scarier than both my parents combined.

But anyway, once I told my Dad: “This is the guy I’m going to marry, deal with it”, my Dad did just that. It actually was my Mom who flipped out, even though that was a few years after we got married and is a story for a different day.

So what I want to say today is: Thank you, Dad. We fought a lot when I was a teen and I was not always happy with you. But I’m glad that you cared. I’m also glad that you saved me a lot of time. Because guys who can’t stand up to you, can’t stand up to me, either, and I can get scary mean and nasty when someone doesn’t stand up to me. And that’s a person I don’t want to be. So. Thank you, Dad. Happy Father’s Day!

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