Same Family, Different Rules
I have boys as well. They are easy to take care of. You can rough house with them, smack ’em, make them do hard labor. You can also let them do anything with very little worrying on your end. The girls? Nope.
I, and other men I have come into contact with, have two separate sets of rules and expectations for our sons and daughters. Like I said, I didn’t mean to be a hypocrite. If your daughter is at a friend’s house, and it is after dark and time to come home, more often than not someone goes to pick her up. Because it is dangerous outside and there are kidnappers and white vans with no windows. And she is all the way across the street. You just can’t take that chance with her. If it’s your son, you tell him to get his butt home and try not to break any of the neighbor’s things on the way home.
If your son talks back to you, he will usually get the taste back in his mouth after a week. The girl? You have to spend the next 6 hours talking about feelings and why her bad hair day four days ago led to this and then you end up apologizing for causing it. I don’t know how they do it.
If my son talks to a girl, or tells a girl ten years older than him that she is pretty, I tell everyone what a little stud I have for a boy. If a boy says that to my daughter I want him quartered and burned. I know it’s not fair.
If my son comes downstairs and I am watching Rambo, I invite him to learn how to protect himself from armies and evil dictators. Then maybe we make it a double feature and let John McClane educate us in the finer points of protecting your wife from slimy Euro-terrorists, Die Hard style. But if my daughter comes down, I have to hurry and find a show about butterflies and unicorns. I can’t fill her mind with senseless violence.
So in advance I would like to apologize to my daughters. I try. I really do. But when you have two princesses running around your house, you just can’t help but want to protect them. My boys are good enough for anyone. But no one is good enough for my daughters.