Saturday, September 21, 2013

Yikers - my daughter is in high school

I wanted to do the clothes shopping myself, but my daughter would have none of it.
Instead, she dragged her mom to every mall in the Valley looking for the perfect clothes to wear to school.
Personally, I would be happy to see her decked out in a nice big burlap sack. Cut out a hole for her head and arms and send her off to school.
"Dad, what is burlap anyway?” she asked.
"Burlap is the latest in fashion,” I replied. "It is all the rage in Europe right now. You could be a trend setter, honey. The first to break out this new fashion style here.”
She went online (stupid Interweb) and saw what a burlap sack actually was and no matter how much I praised it as Euro-chic, she did not buy into it.
I would prefer she head off to school with a big, ugly piece of cloth wrapped around her. Perhaps a big floppy hat that covers her face as well.
Instead, she walked out the door every bit the pretty young woman she is – darn it.
My wife makes sure our daughter dresses modestly, with none of the three Bs showing – boobs, butt or belly.
And for the most part my daughter complies with little fuss, even though some of her classmates are dressed differently.
"But their mom's let them dress that way,” is occasionally her plea.
"Well, I'm not their mom. If I were, they wouldn't be dressing that way either,” replied my unflappable spouse who is a big proponent of modesty  in young ladies.
It was a lot easier for me to see my boys grow up than my girl.
At her elementary school graduation, it hit like a Mike Tyson sucker punch that she will now be going to the big school, a school full of teenage boys. Yikes.
I remembered what some of my classmates were like as teenage boys and I immediately wanted to ship her off to an all-girl boarding school somewhere in the Arctic circle where there is virtually no chance of boys being around.
I know that is not realistic, but I still wanted to do it.
I worried about my boys when they went into high school, but for different reasons. With them I was more concerned about their grades, who their friends were, who their teachers were and other things a typical parent thinks about.
I thought about those with my daughter as well, but in the back of my mind   (actually it was screaming its head off in the front of my mind) was: building full of teenage boys with raging harmones.
If I recall, teenage boys only think of a few things: girls, girls and more often than not, girls.
To be fair, they also think about sports (to impress the girls), cars (to take the girls out in) and how they look (see to impress the girls.)
Personally, I was never a 'dog' in or after high school. Jumping from girl to girl was just never my style, but I knew many guys who were the eptiome of a man-whore and would chase anything with breasts.
Those are the type of young men who concern me. OK, they all concern me, but those ones concern me the most.
My daughter has a good head on her shoulders and is a smart, confident person, but I am a dad and that gives me the right to worry about my little girl. And that is a right I choose to exercise – a lot.
I cannot force her to wear a burlap sack, forsake all makeup and look as frumpy as possible, but when a boy does come over, I can sit there in my martial arts uniform, sharpening a 10-inch hunting knife and muttering to myself about how much I miss all my old pals in prison.

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