Daddy, I miss you so much but I am having lots of fun while you are gone. And yesterday we had the coolest boy come over. And I think he is really cute. His name is Ryan Joseph. Now don't get mad because we are both in our pjs here but I promise that nothing happened. He did pat my head a couple of times. But mostly he sang to me and danced for me and made me laugh. He knew I was sad because you were gone and so he tried to cheer me up. So I wanted to ask you a question. How old do I have to be before I can date?
Daddy: Dear Bri, what I'm about to tell you will not be easy to digest. So please know that I say this because I love you. Since being in China, I have grown very accustomed and enamored with the Chinese culture. They seem to have some real time-honored traditions....one in particular that I'm quite fond of. It's called ARRANGED MARRIAGES. We pay a little dowry and, voila, WE get to pick the boy of OUR dreams, not yours.
The beauty in this, you see, is that eliminates dating all together. Gone. No pre-pubescent "ogres" hounding our door, no backseats, no side huggers at the latte bar (if you know what I mean). Now, your Mother and I haven't had a chance to discuss this much further but you can tell her to watch this Sunday's sermon to learn of how I really feel on the matter. Again, this only because my job in this world is to protect you ("protector" is one of the top 10 Father "Musts" in my book) and to love you as best I can.
Now, about that Clementi Boy. Stay away. He's dangerous...he knows all the right words and songs and is slick as oil....snakeoil. He'll play up his little dimple cheek to charm you but, lemmetellya, he has nothing but boyish intentions. Besides, he lives in Missouri.
Daddy: Dear Bri, what I'm about to tell you will not be easy to digest. So please know that I say this because I love you. Since being in China, I have grown very accustomed and enamored with the Chinese culture. They seem to have some real time-honored traditions....one in particular that I'm quite fond of. It's called ARRANGED MARRIAGES. We pay a little dowry and, voila, WE get to pick the boy of OUR dreams, not yours. The beauty in this, you see, is that eliminates dating all together. Gone. No pre-pubescent "ogres" hounding our door, no backseats, no side huggers at the latte bar (if you know what I mean). Now, your Mother and I haven't had a chance to discuss this much further but you can tell her to watch this Sunday's sermon to learn of how I really feel on the matter. Again, this only because my job in this world is to protect you ("protector" is one of the top 10 Father "Musts" in my book) and to love you as best I can.
Now, about that Clementi Boy. Stay away. He's dangerous...he knows all the right words and songs and is slick as oil....snakeoil. He'll play up his little dimple cheek to charm you but, lemmetellya, he has nothing but boyish intentions. Besides, he lives in Missouri.
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