Postcard #88: Boyfriends II - Tenth Anniversary/Holiday Postcard

In December of 2004, the first Postcard from the Garden of Estrogen made its appearance.  It was just a single essay, with no plans for anything else.  I have republished the Postcard elsewhere on this blog.  But thanks to the five women in my life, the past ten years have provided a limitless supply of material.  And with over a half million miles spent in the air, I have had enough time to write it all down. 

Whether you have been with me from the beginning or have joined along the way, thank you for reading.

And now we turn to a topic that was not even on the distant radar when my daughters were 8, 8, 8 and 5.

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Come on in boy, sit on down
And tell me 'bout yourself.
So you like my daughter, do you now?
Yeah we think she's something else.
She's her daddy's girl and her mama's world
She deserves respect, that's what she'll get, ain't it son?
Now y'all run along and have some fun.
I'll see you when you get back
Bet I'll be up all night
Still cleaning this gun.

Rodney Atkins, “Cleaning This Gun”

I know some people like to poke fun at country music, but how can you not like lyrics like these – especially if you have daughters? 

* * *

When D1, D2 and D3 were ten years old I wrote a Postcard entitled Boyfriends - OK, not a very original title, I admit, but also not at all confusing as to the topic.  The purpose (aside from general amusement) was to document their views on the subject of boys and dating while they and their friends had virtually no firsthand knowledge of the subject.  Postcard #30 is posted elsewhere on this blog. 

At the time, I made one prophetic statement:

I don’t know what worries me more:

• The idea that one day my daughters will have boyfriends.
• The idea that it may happen at approximately the same time (at least for the big three – this is NOT one area where I want the little one to play catch-up). 

Through intermediate school and middle school I watched as my daughters’ peers started to experiment with relationships.  Boys would appear on the spectator sidelines at the games I was coaching. Or we would hear at the dinner table about who liked whom, who was going out with whom, etc.  The Queen and I just listened.  As far as we could tell, all of this was going on around our daughters, but not directly involving them.  Nevertheless, just to be on the safe side, I would find a way to periodically remind the girls that I had won a number of awards shooting target rifles when I was a teenager.  My own version of Rodney Atkins.

Then came high school.  First year, same story.  Then suddenly, boys started showing interest in D1, D2 and D3.  I didn’t interview any of the boys at the time (now THAT would have made for an interesting Postcard), but perhaps it had something to do with the fact that at 5-6, 5-8 and 5-6 1/2 respectively, the girls no longer towered over the boys the way they used to (D3 in particular is far less intimidating when she is looking up).

However, just because the boys started paying attention doesn’t mean their efforts were reciprocated.  Every single one was unsuccessful.  Eventually we reached a point where I started to become more curious than fearful to see what kind of boy was going to manage to break the ice.  D2, misreading my curiosity, reassured me that (a) she does like boys, and (b) she and her sisters would not settle for any boy just to be able to say she had a boyfriend.

Note:  Not that there was ever any doubt, but D2 has since stated on multiple occasions that “I would never want to date a girl.  I don’t know how guys do it.  We are impossible!”

By this time, D4 had passed her sisters in height (currently approaching 5-10).  With a hairstyle that looks like Darryl Hannah’s in Splash, it would be easy to think she would be the first to attract a beau.  However, not to worry – I think she can be even more intimidating than D3.

Note – apparently among the high school set, the term “beau” has been replaced by BAE (pronounced “bay”), which means Before Anyone Else.  At some point these kids will discover that “bae” is the Danish word for poop (the ae becomes a single letter).  Wonder what will happen then?  At the very least, if your daughter starts dating someone named Lars or Magnus, you might want to warn her not to use this term of endearment.

In any event, at the beginning of this year, without any warning D2 suddenly had a BAE.  By late summer, D1 and D3 had followed suit (and before anyone asks, no they are not dating triplets).  Now here’s the amazing part:  I haven’t thought about making a firearm purchase even once! 

For years I have been thinking up all the clever things to say that will strike fear in the hearts of potential suitors:

• “Thanks for bringing my daughter home.  Yes, I always stand on my front porch late at night.  See ya!”
• “Sure you can take my daughter out again - her next free night is in 5 years.”
• “The movies?  No problem - what are you planning to see?  Oh, The Queen and I were just heading out to the same movie.  We’ll be sitting behind you.” (The Queen’s parents really did this the first time I took her out when we were home from college – no joke).

And yet I have used none of these lines.  What is wrong with me?  In fact, the only restriction I have put on my daughters is that I get veto power over the transportation arrangements, and they seem to be fine with it.

Maybe I’m saving it all for what my vivid imagination is cooking up for D4. 

D4: “But Dad, you didn’t give my sisters a hassle about their boyfriends.”

Gardener: “Your sisters’ boyfriends weren't 6-5 with a Harley Davidson tattoo.  And no, he can’t pick you up for a date on his motorcycle, even if he does have an extra helmet!”

Until then, the gun cleaning will just have to wait.

* * *

Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope the season brings you happiness and peace.