Dating

My wife and I have always been pretty good about squeezing regular date nights into our busy schedules. A typical date lasts around an hour and a half and consists of Mexican food and a trip to Target. Any longer than that and the babysitting money would dry up too quickly. Any shorter than that and the Mexican food would have to come from the drive thru window instead of the inside counter. Last weekend we had the rare opportunity to to replace Target with a comedy show and extend the date time to about seven hours. The Mexican food, although from a different counter, is a non-negotiable.

Thanks to an overnighter with Grandma and Grandpa, four-fifths of the kids were taken care of. The last fifth stayed with us, but picked a perfect window for her seven-hour Saturday evening nap. As Sunday morning dawned, the simplicity of life with four kids gone slowly sunk in. We only had to get one kid ready for church and we didn't even have to fix breakfast for any of them since babies don't require any preparation. Blessed with infinite amounts of wisdom when it comes to these kind of situations, I quickly realized an opportunity when I saw it. My wife loves a big breakfast, so I scored a point and a half in her book (400 in mine) by obliging her with a huge homemade breakfast burrito.

Then the reality of what we had done sunk in. "Whose going to clear the table?" I asked.

"The kids usually do it," she replied.

"But they're at Grandma's," I said. Fortunately I am blessed with infinite amounts of wisdom when it comes to these kind of situations, so I quickly added, "So I'll do it today." Then I noticed that the dishwasher was full of clean dishes. "I guess Zach's not going to unload the dishwasher this morning?" Wandering over to the trash can I noticed that it was looking full. Glancing around I noticed that there was once again a glaring absence of children in the home.

"Honey," I said. "We need kids." As if on queue, one of the dogs started barking. Guess whose job it is to feed them? Apparently mine on this fine morning.

All this talk of dating got me thinking. With five kids of my own, the subject is bound to come up sooner or later. Using my infinite blessing of wisdom I decided to take things into my own hands rather than wait to deal with it after the fact. My oldest girl is seven and she seemed like a good place to start. Not just because she is a girl, but because she is a flirtatious girl. Allow me to illustrate. Although home schooled, she occasionally takes a class or two at the local charter school. It was about a year ago when the teacher told us that she spent the morning holding hands with a boy. That was the last time we let her out of the house.

Tonight, though, I wanted to make sure things were clear. "Maddie," I said. "How old do you have to be to have a boyfriend?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"Eighteen," I said. "You can't have a boyfriend until you are eighteen."

"But, Daddy," she said with the most innocent smile you've ever seen, "I already have like ten of them."

"Ten is fine as long as you have all ten at the same time," I wisely replied knowing that all those jealous boys would end up doing something to make her think men are pigs. "Then when you are eighteen you can narrow it down to three or four."

On second thought, I'd have to let her out of the house to do that. That leaves me no choice. Please submit all applications for arranged marriage to me no later than next Thursday. I will then review the applications, verify the gene pool, eliminate all candidates with back hair in the family since the grandkids will get that from my side anyway, watch how you raise your child, then make a decision for her when the time is right.