I Am Forbidden to Have Daughters

I may have already mentioned it in another blog entry, but lately, I've been reading Colleen's blog quite regularly. In her latest entry she mentioned that she is now the assistant teacher at a preschool and she described her second day of school. Her description of preschool reminded my of my youth when my mom taught kindergarten and elementary school.

My mom was very involved with her students. Even after my mom retired from teaching she still have other people's little kids in our home all the time.

It was during this time, after she retired, in which, one day, out of the blue, my mom forbade me from having daughters. It caught me by surprise considering I was only a teenager.

No, it's not one of those Chinese things in which the potential grandparent desires a grandson. We are living in America where there is no "one child" restriction like they have in China.

As she explained it, "You are not capable of standing firm with the girls. You fold like a deck of cards whenever they ask you for permission to do something that violates the rules. If you have daughters, you will make your wife the bad guy and that's not right!"

As a teenager, I thought nothing of it. I wrote it off as my mom going on a rant because I didn't do something exactly as she wanted it done. (Frankly speaking, I think she has a mild case of OSC. In fact, I think I inherited some of her OSC traits.)

I mentioned my mom's edict to a couple of my women friends. Both said, "Yeah, I can see you making your wife the bad guy when it comes to dealing with the girls."

What? I'm not even married and they are already writing me off as a guy who would make my wife the bad guy. How fair is that!

I've always thought that I'm a fair even-handed guy. However, their response forced me to re-evaluate how I deal with kids of each gender.

Then, I had an epiphany. Whenever a child asks me for permission to do something, I usually give them a chance to plead their case.

With boys, I would rarely get a decent response from them.

I'd ask, "Why should I let you do that?"

How would they response? It's that familiar, "I don't know."

However, girls are a bit more articulate.

"It's after four. I'm not suppose to give you your cookie after four because it'll spoil your dinner."

"I was waiting for the bathroom when they passed out the cookies cause Susie was sick and I let her use the bathroom first."

Hey, that sounds to me like a good defense of her position.

"Okay, you can grab one cookie; eat it quickly."

I guess if I want to truly be even-handed, I really need to help the boys articulate their cases.

Then, again, I would make my wife the bad guy irregardless of our child's gender.

Hmmm... Maybe, I shouldn't have any children at all.

Flirting with Italian Girls

If I were asked what I like most about living in Baltimore is the plethora of diverse ethnic restaurants serving amazing cuisine at working man prices. Within my neighborhood, there are restaurants that serve Chinese food, Thai food, Indian food, Lebanese food, Italian food, Greek food, German food, Polish food, and Nigerian food. Many are mom and pop shops those proprietors are right off the boat.

One of the ones that I frequent is the Ristorante Italiano, a neighborhood diner that serves Italian food. They serve the best cream of crab soup with huge chunks of crab meat.

I usually visit the diner very late at night (sometime between 2 and 3 in the morning). Most of the restaurant staff, during that shift, can just barely speak enough English to be able to take the order. So, I generally stick to giving my order. Occasionally, I'd throw them a "Buon giorno! Come sta?" when I come in and an "Arrivederci" when I leave. At most, I'd tell the waitress, "Grazie. Ti amo!" when she gives me something extra. But the exchange is always brief. As soon as I receive my order, I'm out the door.

Tonight, they were out of the cream of crab soup and were still cooking the new batch when I ordered the soup.

While I waited for my soup, another late night patron came in. It looked like he had been clubbing and was not yet ready to stop partying.

As he approached the counter, one of three waitresses asked, "What would you like?"

In an attempt to flirt with the waitresses, this late night patron smiled, winked, and replied, "Two blondes and a brunette", referring to the three waitresses.

All three waitresses looked puzzled. They quickly opened the menu and started to scan it for the requested items.

The late night patron tried his line again, "No, no, I said, 'Two blondes and a brunette.'"

"Two blondes and a brunette"

Repeating the line only sent the three waitresses into a huddle.

Realizing that the Italian waitresses did not understand him, he tried to back peddle, "Never mind, just give me a veal parmigiana."

Unfortunately, the waitresses were well instructed in the policy of "The customer is always right" and were intent on satisfying this patron's order. So, they called for the manager to come up front from the kitchen.

"Dell him what ju want."

The late night patron was so embarrassed that I can feel the heat from his redden face radiating from the back of his head.

He slowly explain that it was a joke, "Blonde, Blonde, Brunette", pointing at each waitress. "You asked what I wanted; I said, 'Two blondes and a brunette."

Silence.

At this point, even I am feeling this guy's humiliation. In my mind, I was screaming at the waitresses, "Throw this guy a bone and laugh at his pathetic little joke even if you don't get it. And then, please, put him out of his misery by moving on to taking his real order."

Just when I couldn't stand this guy's agony any longer, the waitresses and the manager laughed.

I couldn't tell if they actually understood the joke or if they were just being polite.

After receiving his order, the late night patron walked silently out the door with his tail between his legs.

As I sat there watching him exit, I made a mental note, "Need to learn their language before attempting to flirt with girls who can barely speak English."

Saying "I love you"

Yes, I admit it. I am a completely hopelessly incurable romantic. And I have a large collection of romantic comedy and romantic drama DVDs to prove it. I am especially addicted to that climactic profession of love.

One of my favorite is from the German film "Im Juli (In Julie/July [double entendre])".

After Daniel, the main character, abandoned Juli, the title character, he realized his love for her. And when they met, again, Daniel said:

Meine Herzallerliebste, Ich bin Tausende von Meilen gegangen, ich habe Flüsse überquert, Berge versetzt. Ich habe gelitten und ich habe Qualen über mich ergehen lassen. Ich bin der Versuchung widerstanden und ich bin der Sonne gefolgt, um dir gegenüberstehen zu können und dir zu sagen: „Ich liebe dich“.

Here's my translation to English:
My heart's most dearest love, I've walked a thousand miles, I've crossed rivers, climbed mountains. I have suffered and allowed myself to be overtaken by agonies. I have withstood temptation and I've followed the sun in order to be able to stand before you and to say to you, "I love you."

Ironically, it's not something I would do. I believe that "I love you" means more than just "I want to be with you".

The feeling of euphoria, that draws two people together, comes and goes throughout courtship. But true love is a commitment. So, I prefer not to mislead young ladies that I date with false "I love you"'s when I am clearly not able to make such a commitment.

If "I love you" does not mean "I want to be with you", then how do I define love? Here's my definition.

To Love: to put what is best for the other ahead of what's best for one's self.

If I love you, I put what's best for you ahead of what's best for me.

Only when both partners are willing, to put what's best for the other ahead of what's best for one's self, are both partners ready for a relationship.

The best example is the short story "The Gift of the Magi" by William Sydney Porter (under "le nom de plume" O Henry).

For Christmas, the husband wanted to give his wife something that would edify her. Since she had beautiful long flowing hair, he wanted to give her an expensive set of combs and clips.

The wife wanted to give her husband something that would edify him. Since he had an heirloom watch, passed down from his father, and it was without a watch chain, she wanted to give him a suitable watch chain.

Neither had money for their purchases. So the husband pawned his watch to buy the set of combs and clips and the wife sold her hair to buy the watch chain.

On Christmas day, when they opened their presents, they discovered that they had given each other the most precious gift of all: true love.

That's how I prefer to say, "I love you."