Daddy Vogue

jcrew tennis shoes

I don’t know if I’ll ever get remarried.  Perhaps in time, but I guess I’m not in a rush.

My mom says that she’s not going to die until I do.  If I want to keep her around, I should probably not – it might give her incentive to keep on trucking.

I have dated some.  The girls reaction has been funny.  They are supportive, but they find it difficult to believe that anyone would actually, without being under some sort of duress, would want to go out with me.

Me:  “DJ, I’m going out to dinner on Friday night.  Can you babysit?”

DJ:  “I guess.  What are you doing?”

Me:  “I have a date.”

DJ:  “Seriously?”

The seriously isn’t framed as I’m upset you’re going out.  The tone behind the word clearly conveys Poor, poor pathetic woman.  To be desperate enough to go on a date with my dad – even if he is paying.

Someone told me to try online dating.  There may be a day that I get to that – but it sure isn’t now.  I did, however, wonder what my profile might be:

Nearly 50-year-old widower

Skinny with slight love handles

Three teenage daughters (now that’s a selling point)

Works for a nonprofit ($$$)

Will always love his deceased wife

Might write a tell-all book about you at some point in the future

I mean, who wouldn’t be into that?

A few weeks ago I was heading out and went upstairs to give instructions to the troops.  DJ looked at me.

“Dad, are you meeting a woman?”

“Yeah.  Just a friend for a drink.”


She continued, “Dad, I like your shoes.”


“I also like your pants.”

“Thanks baby.”  I am so very, very cool.

“However, I don’t like them together.  Go change.”

I began my defense, “These are cool tennis shoes and J Crew cords!  We’re just going to a bar!  It’s casual!  Uncle Jesse has shoes like this!”

“No.  No he doesn’t.  This situation,” she pointed to my lower extremities, “is not working.”

I wasn’t about to let a 16-year-old dictate my wardrobe.  I’m a confident man.  She couldn’t tell me what to wear!

As I walked through the kitchen, I complained to Michelle, “Can you believe DJ told me to change my shoes?”

She glanced down from the iPad and down at my feet.  “Thank God.”

As I slipped on my boots I was disgusted with weakness.

I really haven’t dated that much and am in no big hurry.  It is difficult to find time.  But it is nice to occasionally hang out with females who aren’t married to my friends or whose primary concern isn’t acne.

Tea and Boots





Posted by Danny

I get a lot of emails.  I enjoy the ones from friends – making plans or sharing news.  And most of the ones at work are important enough to read.  But bulk emails from school, dance, church, sports teams, etc., etc. get me down. 

The volume of information coming at me is sometimes overwhelming.  There are so many things to read and each is so very…very long. 

I am amazed at how many sentences it takes to remind me to send money to school.  Don’t wish me a good day or tell me the kids’ activities for the week.  Just tell me what I need to do:  Bruce, Send $10 on Wednesday.  I will obey.

I don’t care what it’s for – the teacher can use it to buy a farm animal for her great-aunt.  No explanation needed.  Just get to the chase!  

DJ is in a a mother/daughter service club.  It’s a great organization that does incredible work throughout the community.  This group has a weekly email that gives the details for the upcoming activities – it is fairly short and to the point.  But recently the 9th grade class was responsible for putting on a tea.  And the reminder came out two days before the important event.

Email 1:  Details, details, details…and remember, you can’t wear boots to the tea.

Email 2 (from a mother responding to all):  You can wear boots to the tea.

Email 3 (from another mother responding to all):  No, you can’t wear boots.

Email 4 (you get the picture):  Yes – you can wear boots to the tea but they have to be dress boots.  You can’t wear Uggs or riding boots.

Email 5:  No – no boots. 

Email 6:  Anyone can wear boots but the 9th graders – they are hosting the tea and cannot wear boots.  And they aren’t allowed to eat.

Who hosts a party and doesn’t eat?

Email 7:  We talked about this for 15 minutes at the last meeting.  You can wear dress boots.

Email 8:  Attachment: The bylaws of the organization (I did not read them but there must be something in there about boots and teas).

I deleted Emails 9, 10 and 11 before reading them because I had to go pick up the kids. 

Fortunately, the boot situation was not an issue for us.  DJ has at least one pair of shoes that are not boots.  That must not be the case for some of the other girls.

My sister-in-law was taking DJ to the tea.  It took me 30 minutes to explain to her what shoes she could wear.  I made her come by our house before the event to ensure that she didn’t try to sneak in with a pair of rain boots (they weren’t specifically singled out).  I could see Aunt Sallie trying to push the envelope.  She wore heels.  I was relieved.

I actually understand the No Ugg policy.  My girls would wear them to a Nascar race or to the Royal wedding.  They have no Ugg filter.  These women are just trying to teach some manners – and lord knows I need help with that. 

But I was convinced with the first email…

Email 1:  No boots…

My response:  OK…

Apparently the party was grand, and they did get to eat – but just in the kitchen.  Probably a good idea.  I could see my girls sipping punch out of the ladle.

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