When a father has a pre-teen daughter, there is a point when a very large dog becomes a valid purchase. When I say large, I mean a dog the size of Hagrid's dog, Fang. A dog that is so big that feeding it will require a second job.
I have come to this day because of several things. The bras and panties in the laundry that are not my wife's. For all that is holy, can clothing manufacturers not make pre-teen panties with a little more coverage? The low-rider jeans that are entirely too tight. But the thing that drives me the most insane is the wandering eyes of the boys. Nothing to date has made me more likely to whack the boy du jour in the head than the wandering eyes. It was bad enough when the chest started showing up. I realize that this can't be stopped and she going to become a woman whether I like it or not. Since it is poor taste to harm the boys of the present and future, I think that a dog the size of a cougar would be the best idea.
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