I had a moment at a wedding recently where I realised that I might not be the only man in my daughter’s life in a few years to come. Some guy would become the pivot of her existence. The one she dreams about and the one she wants to sit next too in a movie.
Fortunately she’s only 11 so I am still that guy.
There once was a little princess, and even at a tender age her beauty was evident. Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously and a few freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. Her hair, the colour of wheat, long and vibrant. Her laughter filled everyone with joy. Some say she would grow up to be the most beautiful in all the land. It is predicted that young men (and some old farts), would come from far and wide to try to win her heart. Therefore the King will have to prepare himself, to protect the heart of his daughter from the pricks and idiots who would pursue it in years to come.
I know this for a fact because the little princess lives in my house.
Recently I met another dad who had the misfortune of having a dick of a son-in-law. I am using this anatomical reference, because the person I talked to, seemed to think that this was the only working part of the guy his princess…
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