I’m not going to name names in this post because I don’t think it would be fair to blast a defenseless 12-year old, as much as I’d like to.

Here’s the deal:  a beautiful, brilliant girl who got lucky and was not cursed with her father’s looks, or ADD, came home and sought out said father.  This conversation ensued:

Father: "Hey honey.  How was your day?"

Daughter: "Okay…well not that good."

Father: "Why?"

Daughter: "Well, <little **** she has a crush on and is ‘friends’ with> said he knows lots of girls prettier than me."  Her eyes start to well up.

Father: Tongue almost bleeding from being bitten because his first instinct is to say, "That little MF-er doesn’t know what he’s talking about and you shouldn’t even think about what that little, no-good s***head thinks."  But of course he doesn’t.  Instead he says, "Well, do YOU think you’re pretty?"  Brilliant, huh?

Daughter: "No."

Father: "Well you are.  In fact I’ve had friends tell me how pretty they think you are."  It occurs to him that this might sound a little creepy to a 12 year-old girl so he digs the hole deeper in an effort to de-creepify it. "And you know we all have been around a long time and have known lots of pretty girls so we know a whole lot better than <little ****>."  He’s worried that he’s really making it worse, but she’s beginning to smile so maybe he’s doing okay.  "Look," he says, "I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me or my old-fart friends but you really are a beautiful girl.  Really.  And on top of that you’re smart, kind, friendly and a lot of fun to hang out with.  The problem is that boys your age just don’t know what they’re doing (thank God he thinks to himself) and so they say and do really dumb things."

Hitting his stride he continues, "Let me ask you this: Do you know boys that you think are better looking than <little ****>?"

Daughter: "Yes."

Father:  "See it’s just an opinion and what does it matter because you still like <little ****> even though you know other boys that are better looking, right?"

Daughter: "I guess so."  Smiling.

Father: "Okay, so don’t worry about his or any other boy’s opinion.  If you know you’re pretty and a good person then it doesn’t really matter what they think.  And if they don’t treat you the way you want to be treated just ignore them and don’t give them the time of day, okay?"

Daughter: "Okay…thanks Dad!" She runs out with a big smile on her face.

Father, utterly exhausted, mutters to himself, "Where the sam-hell is that bottle of Scotch when I really need it" and sincerely hopes he doesn’t meet <little ****> in the near future.  He is also very, very afraid of the next decade or two.