How to Spot the Wrong Guy at 20 Paces, Part II: More Warnings to Heed

Surprisingly, I received a lot of feedback about Mullett Man (see "How to Spot the Wrong Guy at 20 Paces" posted July 27/07) and a number of friends shared their first-date screening criteria with me. I am out of the dating scene, hopefully for good, but for those of you who are not, you may find these useful. If any of these signs are present on the your first date, you are strongly advised to decline a second one . . .

1. You're out for dinner. He orders a "craft" of wine (another variation is ordering a "caftan" of wine).
2. He brings his sister on the date.
3. He brings his 42-year old brother, who, in turn, brings his 18-year old girlfriend on the date. She offers everyone some HubbaBubba bubble gum. Your date accepts. A bubble-blowing contest ensues.
   
4. Over dinner, he tells you that he never really fit in because he was labeled a "nose-picker" in grade 1 (remember, it's a first date).
5. He tells you about his vasectomy (that first date thing again).
6. The evening goes well. You've had wine and despite the fact that you don't know him really well, you're, well, a bit randy. He invites you to go back to his place, but advises that you will have to sneak in through the basement window so that you don't wake up his parents. He's 35.
7. In the parking lot outside the restaurant where you have (wisely) gone Dutch on dinner, he hands you the $10.00 that you left on the table as a tip and smiles condescendingly as he tells you that "those people get paid, you know".
8. His toupee slips onto his dinner plate.
   
9. He sneaks his own liquor into the restaurant. He goes to the bathroom to drink it. He returns and offers you the flask.
10. He orders several cocktails, all of which are served with those little umbrellas. After dinner, he throws up under the table.
    

Vacation Part I: Are we Really Amused?

We just got back from vacation. Like many parents of young children, and like the Griswald family in one of my favourite movies, Vacation, we decided to take a road trip and to take in various activities along the way. These included stops at a water slide park with enormously high and tortious-looking slides. An irrational need to have my 7-year old continue to view me as superhuman helped me overcome a paralyzing fear of heights and join him and the rest of the family on at least some of the more challenging slides. At the bottom of one slide my adrenaline rush was heightened by the embarassment of having my bathing suit top shift inconveniently, and without my knowledge, exposing a breast. Unlike Paris Hilton's exposure, there was no paparazzi, although my husband had a silly smile on his face and clapped a bit like a happy seal. (I guess with two kids and busy lives, we have to take what we can get!!)

We also went to an amusement park. Now, the term "amusement park" has always confused me, because I am never "amused" when I go to these places. In fact, I have to take Gravol just to enter an amusement park and look at the rides. Combine the threatened nausea with heat, long line-ups (for rides that last 2 minutes each), expensive snacks consisting mostly of sugar or other sticky substances and the disappointment of a 4-year old daredevil (also a princess) who does not meet the height requirements for most of the rides, and you are in for a decidedly unamusing time. At least, that was my attitude when I walked into the park.


I was pleasantly surprised, however, to have a good time there. It was really quite fun to see the kids smile and hear their thrilled screams. Although she was sorely disappointed at being denied access to the roller coaster, Janet could go on more rides than she could at the last amusement park we went to, and I didn't have to go on any! As an added bonus, Daniel actually got a bit sick at one point, which removed at least some of the pressure on me.

Oddly, however, the biggest "amusement" for the kids came when we left the park and they discovered a very big (and, fortunately, very dead) june bug under the sign by the parking lot. They stared and poked at it with horrified fascination for at least 5 minutes - 3 minutes longer than any of the rides at the park - and chatted about it at various points throughout the evening that followed. It left me wondering whether there is a way that the park could make some money off of it.

It's So Dramatic . . .

As I was sipping coffee this morning, contemplating a blog topic, my daughter came over to me, bottom lip trembling, eyes sad and wide.

"I can't find my princess dress," she sobbed.

I looked at her, clad only in a pair of her brother's boxer shorts, which she stole from his drawer last night because she finds the seams on her panties "not comfy". I knew better than to tell her to go and find something else, which is what I would say to Daniel. If I say that to Janet, there will be tears, wailing, perhaps some door slamming, followed by "I want my Daddy". I just hadn't had enough coffee to deal with it, so I went to help her.

I gave birth to a princess.

Don't get me wrong, I love her and I actually get a kick out her princess-ness. That said, I am completely mystified as to how this happened. Where did she get such a sense of utter entitlement? It started right there in the delivery room. Whereas her brother came out cooing (not a word of a lie - he was cooing, not crying) Janet, who is standing beside me now, in her housecoat and high heals, waiting for her dress to dry, roared like an angry lion upon entering the world. Her face was angry and red, and I swear she was glaring at the doctor for bringing her into a room with such bad lighting and crappy decor. . .

There are daily examples. There was the time that she managed to get her uncle to feed her ice cream for breakfast because the pancakes he made were too brown. Just last week, the kids disturbed a wasp nest. Janet was stung on the arm. Her brother, hearing her terrified screams, went and rescued her, and was stung on the eye lid. Hours later, whilst her brother sat wincing with a still swollen eye, she looked at us with her big eyes and announced that she needed a pillow for her arm.

Daniel is, needless to say, growing close to being disgusted with all things female. Yet, he still looks out for her (I'm proud of you, buddy!)

Despite all of this, however, I'm glad that Janet feels like royalty. Having the "audacity" to ask for, and get, what she wants means that she has the confidence and self-esteem to do so. And given the way the world is, that is something worth fostering.