by C.J Sharp

Created on: March 13, 2009   Last Updated: March 14, 2009

Well, the things my father never told me about meeting girls were second only to the sound advice he did tell me about meeting girls. Which was pretty much nothing, not even the basic fundamental first rule of any encounter with a beautiful young woman, which is make sure your fly is up. I guess my father just figured there are some things a fellow just has to learn on his own.

Of course, this was my fathers approach to everything. He would never say "I wouldn't stick my finger in that light socket son, you could shock yourself and since I love you so much, I don't want to see that happen" No! My dad was the type that would wait till the lights began to flicker, you began to scream in a pitch that was four octaves higher than all fourteen members of the All Boys Catholic Choir, singing down at the Saint Thomas school for boys, and your hair was standing straight up with smoke streaming from the tips.

Before he would stop what he was doing, dig deep into his archive of fatherly wisdom and look at you with the "Dad Look" You know the look that says "Oh my God! just how dumb of a child are you?" We have all seen this look at one time or another in our lives, you know the wrinkled forehead, raised eye brows, the shaking of the head back and forth with the slight eye roll to the left. Always followed by the question "Well that probably wasn't a good ideal, now was it? Are you just trying to burn the house down?" Of course, being three, all you can muster is that stupid look of "Oh my God! I don't know what just happened but my pull-ups are smoking." Proceeded by the even crazier look of "Hey! Should I try that again?"

Now as I grew older, I realized why my father never told me about meeting girls because after forty years of marriage, he still had not figured out anything about the opposit sex. Which would explain most of the gifts he bought my mother for Christmas and her birthday. Which is odd in itself. What woman in her right mind would not want a screwdriver set for her birthday? (Monogrammed no-less!) Or how could my mother just not cry over a vacume that could suck up a bowling ball? (Because there were so many just laying around the house.) I thought as a kid my father oozed charm. Of course that was until he suggested I buy jumper cables for my girlfriend on her birthday. You know I'm amazed that my family was even concieved. But I was able to figure a few things out about women that ring true on trying to understand them.

First I realized by watching horror

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