I made it a point not to criticize the girls my sons dated. You just never knew when they were going to fall in love and marry one of them. If that happened I knew my boys would eventually rat me out, tell them everything I had said, and I didn’t want anything I had said to be held against me.

If I wasn’t impressed with a new girl and Bo or Mark asked me about her, I’d just say, “Well, she has high cheek bones.”

Bo: He knew what question to ask.
Bo: He knew what question to ask.

It was a code the boys understood but if they married her and told on me some day maybe my daughter-in-law wouldn’t hold that against me. Aren’t high cheek bones supposed to be a good thing?  

I didn’t like Biscuitville, a girl my oldest son, Bo, was dating, for reasons I won’t go in to now. [I called her Biscuitville because that was the name of the restaurant where she worked.] And for the life of me I couldn’t see why Bo continued to waste time taking her out.  

So one night when Bo got home from a date I broke my rule. I was so exasperated I asked him, “Bo, what do you see in Biscuitville?”
And he said, “Dad, have you ever looked at her?”

Well, of course I never looked at the girls my sons dated.  I did glance at some of them and I had glanced at Biscuitville. She had a beautiful face and what appeared to be a beautiful body.

“Yes,” I said.

“Why are you asking me this question?” he asked.

Coming Friday:  Mmmm, Good Lettuce!

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