Gardening Shears-

Some days, I feel as if I have contracted the black plague or the swine flu. It’s the oddest feeling. I think I’ve pinpointed the source of this disconcerting sensation. What has grey hair, goes by the alias of “Davis” or Dad, and is a Sergeant Major in the U.S. Army? DING DING DING! We have a winner. Now, it’s not so much the whole dad part about it that catches people, and by people I mean the opposite gender, up.

It’s more the title. I should have this expected from the first time I went on a real date. He handed my date a list of “10 Rules to Dating a SGM’s Daughter”. I begged my date not to laugh. “For the love of god! Do you know what you have just done? You NEVER laugh. It only encourages him.” But he couldn’t understand…

Fast forward to when me and Doug started dating. Doug was blessed to find a very large set of gardening shears. This was a warning from my dad. Something along the lines of “You hurt her, and I will neuter you.” Really pleasant, right? I don’t know if it was before or after that warning that Doug found multiple copies of “the rules” strategically scattered throughout his room. I blame my first date for this…

Fast forward to now. My dad has become so advanced in his “scare” techniques. The guy only has to know that my dad is a SGM and he visibly backs away. This makes it very difficult to have any friends of the opposite gender, let alone acquaintances. In fact, the other day I made an innocent joke to my dad about the opposite gender, and he threatened utilizing my “aunts” and “uncles” as undercover spies. Is nothing sacred anymore?

But what really cinched this feeling of some highly infectious disease, was the other night when I was in the computer lab. I was talking to the person sitting next to me. Innocently chatting about cars and volleyball and whatever else came to mind. He lives in St. Cloud and so he knew of the area where our cabin is. I mentioned that when my dad retires, my parents will eventually move up to the Osakis area. After saying that… I could see in his eyes that he was catching on. “What does your dad do?” I looked at him… nervous to answer. “He’s in the army.” “Still? What unit is he in?” I hesitated. “34th Id…” “Wait… is he… here?” I answered, more hesitantly than before. “Yes…” “What? Is he like a SGM or something” He said with a laugh. “Yes….” And then, he scooted away. Just like that. He moved his chair over. And looked at me, with panic in his eyes.

And from here on out, if anyone asks… my dad is an accountant. Accountants just don’t strike a sense of fear into people like SGM do. I’m joking… but don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind.