Hasses aren't only avocados.

Pater: What are little boys made of?

Posted by Pater , Wednesday, February 17, 2010 8:06 PM

What are little boys made of? Well if the nursery rhyme is correct, snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails. That's what little boys are made of . I have no idea what snips are but the rest of it seems pretty clear to me. And having once been a little boy (Mater: You still are), I can state in no uncertain terms that little boys are trouble. And it doesn't stop when they get out of diapers.

So why, oh why, Avocado Jnr, does Mater insist on you hanging out with so much trouble while I'm at work? Oh sure, the maters all get together for an innocent coffee and a chat, thinking how sweet it is that their offspring play together so nicely on the mat. But let me warn you...no, even better, listen to these wise words from Fiddler on the Roof.

Yenta: "Play? What do they play?"

Golde: "I don't know, they're children."

Yenta: "From such children come other children."

See! If Yenta can see it and Paters the world over can see it, why can't Mater or her sisterhood of mothers pick up on the obvious? Okay, okay, maybe some boys are decent. But they are the ones who live thousands of miles from here and have no chance of ever coming to our house to date you. The rest are just trouble. Which is why Pater thinks it's so necessary to have a shotgun. And a detailed set of prerequisites. Only having first got past the former will your dates be subjected to the latter. Pater wasn't born yesterday!

Prerequisites:

1) A solid career. I don't care if your date is nine or nineteen. Acceptable fields are banking, law or medicine. Mater will say that as long as you're both happy, that's all that counts. Mater is wrong.

2) Respectful. When I pull out my aforementioned shotgun, your date will not curse in fear.

3) Good looking. Once the two of you have dated for fifteen years and then get married with my permission, we want cute grandchildren. Plural.

4) Money. Of his own. Or a letter from his parents confirming how much is due to him and when. I'm not fussy which.

5) Clever. But not too clever - I don't want to look like an idiot when he comes round. Nor do I want someone who is clever enough to have read this blog first and know what to expect.

6) Funny. While Mater considers me the funniest person alive, I will acknowledge that others share my skills in humour and as long as he doesn't steal my lines, I would like a funny son-in-law. Plus, if my shotgun does some damage to him, a sense of humour will help him through the pain.

7) Good with old people. Since you will be locked up until your twenty and, as mentioned above, will be dating this guy for fifteen years, by the time you get married Mater and I will be old and I want to make sure he treats us well. Especially because we might be moving in with you two eventually.

8) Religious. Don't worry if he's not religious when you first meet. By the time I've finished instilling the fear of Heaven into him, he'll be praying to God, Jesus, Mohamed and Buddha.

9) Well dressed. Personally I don't care if your date picks you up dressed like a bum. Some rich bankers/lawyers/doctors do that, so I'm not worried. This point was requested by Mater.

10) I leave this last prerequisite unfinished. Call it an open option. I'm sure, upon meeting your date, I will find another requirement that he doesn't fulfil. Believe me, this is for your own good. Boys are evil.

I realise that as you reach your fifth month, your only concern is not being drooled or dribbled on by the cute boys in the pictures below. And maybe Mater is right that I am overreacting. I just want you to know that someday (and soon) Pater will be investing in a serious, underwear-filling, OMG is that loaded, shotgun.