To the Boys who may one day date my daughter;
From the new born ‘bouncy’ baby boys in the maternity wards who will fall in love with your voice when they hear your first cry, to those brats in church who step on the kneelers and pick your phone from the pews then start trying to play with your kids preferably your daughter… to Bruno (from episode I), to high school and campus swag enthusiasts, to her cocky intern colleagues and finally the man who gets to put a ring on it.
I pity you, not because I will be too hard on you or that I will shoot you dead the minute I spot you in my backyard trying to throw stones at her bedroom window, but because I will have given her the best things in life so you will need more than pizza to impress her. You will need something her dad didn’t give her (build her a mansion in Pluto maybe)
I would really love that she doesn’t leave my house for yours but she will undergo metamorphosis like every other female and I can’t help it much when finally the genie is out of the bottle.
You will fall for her personality; a lethal combination of beauty, brains and ambition something you don’t find in the 21st century woman, something you can’t buy with silver and gold. It would only be prudent that you are her perfect match if you want me to walk her down the aisle for you. But I can’t control that too, I might have taught her that looks won’t raise her kids but you might happen to have the body of a Spartan (something she likes) and she will fall for the abs rather than your brain.
She will introduce you to me as a member of her study group in high school and try to explain to me how you are good in Biology but I ‘have been there done that’ and we know it all starts with Biology, but for her sake I will pretend not to notice how you look at her, how your hand fidgets in your crotch under the table, or it could be that am overprotective of her and am just imagining things.
Calm down! here is the good part of the fairy tale; I might have landed a good deal and it turns out that I’m unusually in a good mood at that moment, so I will offer to buy you some sushi and maybe ask you about your age, where your dad schooled, your breeding and your two cents on the New York Stock Exchange (what the hell has this got to do with biology!?) while we are at it, not to determine whether you are good for her but to pass time, if anything, the sushi does not come free… I might leave you a few minutes to get more acquainted…sorry to discuss the digestive system.
You might part ways after she joins a different college from yours, you will join another study group where you will try your chances with another girl, probably the daughter of my friend Sam who ventured into farming after we graduated and you will have a hard time answering questions about banana diseases and herbicides. You are doomed buddy! Consider a sacrifice to the gods.
In college she might meet you. Yes you, with some baby locks, in the cafeteria and her smile and sense of tranquility will move not only you but the entire dining room. You will approach her and offer to buy her lunch but she will decline and you will insist. They always say no.
She will somehow like your sense of humor but just like every other campus ‘dude’, she knows you just want to get laid. Maleficent! The lunch was just a decoy, it has worked with all other girls and it ensures that you get your hunt home (why not her?) but she is not just any other girl and she will prove a hard target for you.
I might not get to meet you but I will see a picture of you as she chats with you over dinner. I’m not the kind that sticks my nose in her business but I need to know the people who form her circle, just in case you are bad influence and she starts cussing and using profane words in my house. I will need to know how you text whether you are the kind that writes xx to mean sasa and end every sentence with xoxo. I will need to know what course you take and maybe what you wear (if you are seeking my approval it better not be sweat pants) sorry if I recommend that you shave.
I may call her around 10:12pm from the high stool at the bar counter (to enquire if she is still attending her violin lessons) and it so happens that her phone is off, I can only pray that she is not in for a sleep over at your place for a one night stand, and I will be tempted to leave a voicemail “hello dear it’s me eeeh your dad please remember to use protection…I love you bye” and I wish that she will switch on her phone before you are done with foreplay, because I swear I will depot you to Syria if she gets pregnant.
Hopefully, she might tell you off and say that you are not her type that she only does clean shaven men (you are exceptionally lucky if you are bald) otherwise, this is just not your lucky day and you have to look elsewhere. Happy hunting son!
You will meet her in the conference hall, and right after she explains her idea, an idea that will ensure the company triples its profits, you will want her kids. She might as well be flattered by your pocket square and this will give you a head start over other guys, many guys indeed. Each one of you wants to give the other a run for their money.
Some will invite me for coffee, others a drink. For the latter, I think you will have the upper hand (a tip; I like my Jack cold on a loose Friday night)… waiter, a double for the tip please. I don’t mind chocolate pastries too. I promise I won’t mind your tribe or your political affiliations; I just want the best for her. You could be that guy who pauses in the middle of sipping his drink to brag about the two acre piece of land you bought in Kiambu last week, or that guy who will talk about Plato and Pythagoras philosophies on coffee dates, or a country music aficionado; then we could have something to talk about and sing to ‘God is great, beer is good and people are crazy’ when you visit during Christmas. Horses and boots!
You will promise her heaven and paradise, you will tell her that you loved her since you had baby teeth, try and convince her why she should choose you. But you and I know that these are just hunger games and as soon as you have your fill you will leave her for another and argue that you have to kiss many frogs before you get to the right one. She was just another frog! Pray very hard that I don’t get word of this because I swear I will castrate you and force your crown jewels down your throat.
After kissing many frogs too, after she realizes that you are all idiots and she just has to choose one and be happy, she will finally want to settle down with the best, and you will beg me to sit down with your parents for dowry negotiations. Don’t panic already, you can have your 11 am tea assured that I won’t ask for one million dollars and a private island for bride price (but I wouldn’t mind one-imagine ageing on a serene shore, sleeping on a bamboo made bed, making boats and weaving mangrove baskets during my last days-isn’t that living the American dream?)
I will walk her down the aisle for you and watch her mum cry as you make the vows, not because I like you but because she chose you for lack of a better choice. My apologies if you like your women submissive and someday she stands you up and says she had a bad day at work, too bad she can’t trace her way to the kitchen. However, please don’t hit her, or even think of it, because I know kung fu, taekwondo, judo, kickboxing, tai chi and many other dangerous words. Hehe
This being the 21st century, or at least it still will be when she starts dating, she might turn out to be homo’ or bisexual and I don’t know whether she will be the man or the lady. So to the girls who may one day date my daughter….her mom is working on that. After all we are all gay; it’s just the degrees that vary.
My daughter might meet you as a jihadist, maybe when she is posted for work assignment in Syria, and apparently beards turn her on, so she will fall in love with your goatee and I can only pray that she inspires you to change. That you may see the light.
Speaking of Jihadists, goddamn terrorists; ISIS, Al-Qaeda, Al-Shabaab and all bastards who commit crimes against humanity, my heart bleeds for Paris and all victims of terror attacks in the world; France, Kenya, Somalia, Syria, USA, Iraq, Lebanon etc. May God rest your souls in eternal peace and may comfort be to the souls of those who have lost their loved ones in the wake of terror, in the name of a holy war. These scumbags think they will go to heaven but they won’t even get a place in hell!