Bug and boyfriends.

Not fucking likely.

Bye for now.

Xx












Okay. Maybe some justification is needed.

I'll start by saying little boys are lovely. Some of Bug's best friends are little boys. Thing is, little boys don't stay little boys forever. Before you can say 'Timmy put your cock away!' little boys develop into teenage wank pots. It's not their fault -- if anyone's to blame it's puberty. Alas, puberty's not spoken to me for twenty five years so it's back to blaming teenage boys.

And it's not just boys: Bear and I are pretty liberal. With this in mind, teenage girls can fuck off too.

I know what you're thinking: Bug's only 18 months old and worrying about potential love interests a good 30 years before the first one is a little extreme.

I know you're thinking that. You're forgetting one thing though: preparation. As Abraham Lincoln said 'If I had eight hours to chop down a tree, I'd spend six sharpening my axe.' I would have replaced 'tree' with 'whiny little bastard that wants to date my daughter' but we're pretty close.

So I'm preparing the best I can. I only have 18 years -- after that she can make up her own mind. I could sit here and moan about how the law's misguided, about how parents should be able to wield vetoes similar to the five permanent members of the United Nations -- chances are I'd be repeating 'veto' so many times that semantic satiation would occur 4 minutes after Bug's first boyfriend visited.

Since Bug was born (and I have a feeling months before) I've joked about how I could keep boys and girls from our door. As time's gone by, it's seemed less a joke, more a lifestyle choice: 

Phase 1

This might sound materialistic but it's important to know that a future son/daughter-in-law is able to support Bug and her parents financially. As such, each interested party will submit financial records and agree to be credit checked. Only the top five percent will move onto Phase 2.

Phase 2

Bug will have spent the best part of 18 years in a room dictionary defined as a dungeon.  Those who pass Phase 1 will get a ten second peak through a slat in her door. That would be it for courting and on to Phase 3. 

Phase 3

To prove their love of Bug, they'll have to return when she's 40. At which point I'll shoot them.

The End

Whenever I mention this to Bear she asks the same question: don't you want her to be happy? I do, I really do. I'm utterly happy with Bear, but it's not like we found each other when we were 12. There were years and years of broken hearts and bastards and sobbing over every love song ever written because the lyricists had my failures in mind when he wrote them. 

This wasn't happiness, it was brutal. 

Brutal will not be entering Bug's life while I have a say in it.

PPS

It's not just me either. There's at least two of us:

Smile and wave boys. Smile and wave.

A few months back I complained bitterly via Facebook about folk not waving after Bug had waved like a mental at them. My exact words were 'you're all a set of miserable bastards who couldn't spot a wave in a tsunami.' I couldn't understand why people failed to wave. It made no sense. Here's this little girl learning about social interactions at nine months old. Here's the world ignoring her. A grump was well and truly afoot. It never occurred to me that maybe the world hadn't seen her. She was small with smaller waves, and anyway, defensive is a Dad's middle name.

She's sixteen months old now, or as I like to call it: a year. I've been saying 'a year' for the past four months. I am King Denial when it comes to Bug growing up. When she's twenty seven I'll be telling people she's just big for her age while trying to squeeze her squidgy bum into a baby grow. Speaking of which, yesterday I was talking to our neighbour.  He's expecting his first wee one in a couple of months. I had Bug in a sling. He pointed to it and said "I'd like to get a sling."
          "They're ace," I said. "She's getting a bit heavy for it but still..."
          "Yes. I bet you like the cuddles."
          "I do," I replied. "She'll be in here when she's twenty seven!"
          He smiled. I got carried away:
          "Just call me Fritzl. Haha!"
           He hasn't spoken to me since.

Back to waving. Bug's big now with bigger waves. When she starts it's difficult to miss and people respond. Bug gets more new waves than an 80s teenager! The thing that amazes me is the type of folk who wave back. At the traffic lights last week there was a white van. In it sat two of the roughest looking bastards you'd never want to meet. Hanging out of the window was a dog that looked like it had gone paw-to-paw with the hound of the Baskervilles and won. Bug clocked the dog and gave it an excited wave. The two psychos noticed Bug and gave her a big wave back. The dog barked happily and waggled its tail. Bug gave a happy chirp and off on our day we went. It was Disney done by Guy Ritchie.

She gets waves by mistake too. Bug can spot dog a mile off. She has dog-sense. At the park she waved madly at a dog on the horizon. The homeless gent stumbling towards us didn't know this and gave her a huge grin and a wave. It's very hard to give a wave back so I pocketed it for later and smiled.

I love that she makes people happy. It's like folks get to experience -- in those few seconds -- what I get every day.

Bye for now.

Xx

PS
Bug's learnt to shake her head when she doesn't like something. Turns out there's a lot she doesn't like. Who knew eh?