First Date-pt3

Continued from parts 1 & 2

To read parts 1, 2 and 3 of ‘The First Date’Click Here ‘ 


With a deep breath I entered the cave and began relaying the message. This got me wound up. Wow! Was I on a roll? Not only opening and closing doors but general manners were addressed. I explained that the grunt was no longer a suitable form of communication. Young ladies, particularly those who you may be inviting out because you appreciated their company, versus assisting a classmate to a class function, would expect a higher level of literacy skills (both written and vocabulary) than the caveman language which had emanated from deep within our son for the previous five years.

To lighten any tension I told him that although I had managed to avoid the birds and the bees talk, but this was the ‘Advanced Birds and the Bees’ version of that talk. So take heed.

As I left his room I noticed dogs galloping across the backyard, a sure sign of visitors or slow-moving locals stretching their legs in the evening air. Even though I hollered that it looked like visitors had arrived it was yours truly who opened the front door to greet Jo and her mother. Eventually, moving in barely a slow shuffle and dressed in his best blue denims, Neanderthal man entered the room. After some brief small talk and re-enforcing the safe driving lecture – yes in front of everyone – and telling him it was bad enough if he wrapped himself around a tree, but to wrap Jo around a tree was not pardonable. To which Jo added ‘…if you wrap me around a tree I’ll kill you…’ Another sure sign that God exists.

First Date-pt2

First Date -Part 2/4

To read parts 1 & 2 of ‘The First Date’Click Here ‘ 

The morning of the night arrived.  One more try.  It worked.  ‘Ah! How long will the gardening take?’ a sleepy-eyed number one son mumbled!  The bait had been cast.  And the Neanderthal teenage male was hungry, at last.  I still had my edge!

‘Ah, I have to go to church tonight’ and, ‘That’s not the best part!’, I’m told, by which time I could not contain my laughter.

Around five thirty, half an hour before ‘Dad’ was to arrive with his darling daughter, to be transferred to the care of our darling son, M-G-W asked ‘Have you told him to open (and close) the car door for Jo?’  I mean, how come I won the job?  I have never been consulted on any other matter.  And with hormones in full flight why was he going to take any notice of me tonight?  I dragged myself out of my comfy chair and wandered into this room where he was calming his nerves playing soccer on his computer.

No-one asked about my nerves!  The thought of a pretty girl being taken care of by my male chauvinist son was tearing at my gut.  He could not appreciate the beauty and gentleness of this girl.  Mind you I had only seen her on one or two occasions but I truly feared for her ‘health and wellbeing’ keeping company with my son.  Cavemen are not known for their appreciation of the fairer sex.