Fathers Are Coconut Shells

That’s our role with respect to our daughters; I have two. Father’s Day reminds me of this, but it’s been known since antiquity.

We’re supposed to be very tough, protect the vulnerable young ladies from any and all threats. Locking a girl up in a tower may be a bit extreme; but, if you remember, Rapunzel ended up living happily ever after.

We’re supposed to be very tough (I may have said this already); but we’re also supposed to lose. It wouldn’t be good for the coconut species if the fruit could easily be eaten by rodents; it also wouldn’t be good for the species if the shell were made of plastic. Eventually it has to rot away. It’s our job to lose, but not until the right suitor comes along.

If a young man blanches at the prospect of cleaning the Augean Stable, good riddance to bad rubbish. Do you think he’ll take out thrash? If he won’t fight the Nubian Lion, how’s he gonna deal with the IRS. If he can’t kill a Hydra, think of the crabgrass problem they’ll have. Don’t think he gets welcomed with open arms after he finishes his Herculean labors, either. By definition no one is good enough for a daughter.

His last task is to convince his beloved she wants to be with him even more than she wants to obey her father and then to bravely abscond with her. At that point we do our job and lose. The coconut shell shreds. Hopefully they live happily ever after.

We may even get to play with the grandchildren when our sons-in-law forgive us. They do get very understanding as soon as they have daughters of their own.

BTW, mothers have their own methods for dealing with unworthy daughter-in-law candidates. But they (the mothers) play rough.

Happy Father’s Day.