rules for dating my son T-Shirts

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Yes, I am sure that you are well informed. When I'm awake at night - feeding babies, burping babies, giving tylenol to a feverish toddler, covering up chilly toes, tucking green monkeys under little arms - I think of you. Your child will be the one holding my child's hand when our first grandchild is born.

Second, my son the one of dating age is a teenager and there will ABSOLUTELY be dating rules in my house. Okay, I seriously had to try really really hard to stifle my laughter and keep it down to a dull roar so as not to wake my sleeping 3-year-old son. Sweetie, you will not ask him to take you on any little side trips to anywhere, especially the mall, where he will be expected to tag along after you as you use him first as your personal chauffeur, then as your bearer for your packages.

rules for dating my son T-Shirts

I always get a chuckle out of that when it came around! Last year someone sent it to a list I was on, and since I don't have a daughter, and in the spirit of the thing, I wrote up the following... If you like it, feel free to share it, but make sure you tell the truth about who wrote it, or I'll have to come, ummmm..... © written June 6, 1999 by Lisa M. Alekna, and posted to my website April 28, 2000 Rule One: If my son gathers his courage and asks you for a date, this is not an opportunity to run all your errands with my car. Sweetie, you will not ask him to take you on any little side trips to anywhere, especially the mall, where he will be expected to tag along after you as you use him first as your personal chauffeur, then as your bearer for your packages. He has his heart and soul wrapped up in taking you out, for whatever reason that may be, and he has a heart of gold, very simply, you will not take advantage of him. This will simply not happen, right? And therefore, I simply will not hustle your shapely little behind down my front steps to dump you in the trunk with your precious packages and UPS the entire bundle to Tibet, either... Rule Two: You do not touch my son in front of me. No clinging, no hugging, not even holding hands. You may glance at him, but any glances going beneath the belt will get you an immediate expulsion from my house. What did I do?? Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with breasts hanging out, and looking like you are trying out for a job with Hugh Heffner, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your shirt actually does not expose any unintended flesh, I will feel free to helpfully use my hot glue gun to fasten it to your midriff and or chest. Watch the makeup while you're at it too. Should you show up with your face painted garish colors and reeking of perfume like the Whore of Babylon, I will take great pleasure in helpfully introducing you to a scrub brush and a bar of Lava soap... Rule Four: I'm sure you've are enlightened about sex, and have all the latest information on diseases and methods of contraception. Yes, I am sure that you are well informed. I have no real problems with your basic pierced eyebrow, nose, lip, tongue or belly button, honest, but be aware that, with only the most helpful of intentions, I also have a rather large pair of pliers in my toolbox. Yes, my toolbox, not my craft-box. I really DO want to be helpful! Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular girl, and you may have the entire football team panting after you. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my son. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my darling boy, you will continue to date no one but him until you come to an amicable agreement to separate. If you break his heart, I will most assuredly make you wish you'd never been born, dear. Rule Seven: Should you happen to stop by here, please remember there is still such a thing as manners. As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my son to appear, and more than thirty seconds goes by, do not sigh and fidget, and do not snap your gum. He is hurrying as fast as he can, and he's not only driving you, he's buying your movie ticket. In fact, actually, not that I think about it, thanks so very much for stopping over - instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like vacuuming? Rule Eight: You may also be enlightened as to the use of many natural herbal substances, or crystallized and powdered substances. We're not even going to mention things that can be injected, are we? If I ever even think you have even a small glimmer of intent to educate my son regarding these substances, I will be educating Officer Krupky about your general existence, just to be helpful, and insure your general good health... Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be an graying middle-aged, not kewl hippie wannabe. But on issues relating to my son, I am the all-knowing, all-powerful and merciless goddess of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have been known to speed up slow answerers by grabbing the back of their jeans with one hand and the back of their hair with another, and re-introducing them to the front walk... Rule Ten: Be afraid, be very afraid.... Schizophrenia may very well run in families, they're not quite sure... Family legend has it that she would greet my fathers unacceptable dates with carving knife in hand... Grandma would have loved them... I'm not kidding even a little tiny bit...

I'm praying that we will be friends. Later today I will be posting it on the front door with an electric staple gun. THIS makes me happy. I will demand respect for both. I may even be insane, because threatening children with lethal weapons is not something a u person does. Yes, I am sure that you are well informed.