It seems every father of a daughter, when she is born, has some joke about never letting her date until she’s 30 years old. Whether it involves standing on the front porch with a shotgun to keep boys away or sending our little girl to a convent when she turns 13, the urge to protect our daughters from the advances of hormone-laden teenage boys is pretty well universal. 

And even if we don’t come out and say it, we’re all thinking the same thing: “I don’t care how nice a guy he is. I know the way MY mind worked at that age, and it wasn’t good.”

Well, I’m living the dream these days, fellas. My oldest daughter, Elissa, acquired her first real boyfriend a few months ago at the tender age of almost 15. And darn it, the thing is, he really IS a nice kid. I like Dylan a lot. He’s polite, he’s funny, and he treats her really well.

But there’s just no escaping the reality of a teenage boy. I know what Dylan’s thinking because I thought it, too. I know the urges he’s feeling because I felt them, too. And often when I see them together, my overriding thought is, “Get away from my daughter, you filthy-minded dirtbag!”

Now I know a lot of parents have strict rules about their kids – girls AND boys – not dating until they reach a certain age, often 16 or 17. And I certainly understand that. But at the same time, Elissa is a good kid…absolute straight-A student, in the band, a lot of extracurricular activities, etc. She’s also very involved at our church and in our youth group, and there’s no doubt in my mind she knows right from wrong. Dylan, too, is active in his church, and his parents are great people whom I like very much.

And there’s also the inescapable reality that my wife and I started going out at roughly the same age Elissa and Dylan are now – we were about a year older – so it’s not like we can play the “If It Was Good Enough For Me To Wait Until I Was Older to Start Dating Then It’s Good Enough for You” card.

And then of course there’s the whole thing about being the most important guy in my daughter’s universe. When Elissa was born, I was in newspaper journalism and worked nights. My wife also worked at the time, but she had a regular 9-to-5 shift, so I was the one who was with Elissa all day when she was a baby. As a result, we’ve always had a tight bond.

And suddenly here comes this little punk suddenly taking up inordinate amounts of my daughter’s time? I know it’s a natural part of growing up, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I guess what matters most is that my wife and I trust Elissa…or at least, we trust her as much as a parent should responsibly trust a 15-year-old. We always keep tabs on where she is and where she’s going, and to the extent possible, we minimize situations where she and Dylan are alone. Whenever he comes over, Elissa knows she’s not to take him anywhere in the house that’s deserted (which is a challenge anyway, considering the fact that seven of us live here). Teenagers who want to be alone will always find a time and place for it, but we’re being as vigilant as we can in that department.

Still, in the end, there’s a part of me deep down that wonders whether I should take a trip to Wal-Mart and visit the sporting goods section….ya know, just to check out the prices of shotguns these days.

No related posts.

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.