WHO’S AFRAID OF THE BIG BAD DAD

October 08, 2025

by Rusty W. Mitchum

The other day I was talkin’ to a young man who had just recently started datin’. I asked him if he wanted some datin’ advice. He politely declined, but his facial expression said, “Not from you I don’t.” I smiled, because when I was his age, I wouldn’t have wanted advice from an old codger either. He did, however, tell me that the one thing that he didn’t think he would ever get used to was meetin’ the girls’ parents. He said it scared him to death. That got me to thinkin’ about when I used to date and havin’ to meet the parents, only I loved it. I was more anxious than scared, I think. But to tell the truth, I got along better with the mothers than the dads. I think that’s because I like women better than men. I have run into a few moms that didn’t care for me, but they were few and far between, but I don’t think I’ve ever run into a dad that liked me; at least not at first. I do remember this one time. By the way, I’ve changed the names; not to protect the innocent, but to protect myself. I don’t know if the man is still alive, but even if he’s not, I’m pretty sure he would drag himself out of his grave and come and beat the crud out of me. Anywho, here’s what happened.

Back in high school, I asked this girl out on a date who actually said yes. Well, when I bragged to my buddies who I was goin’ out with, I got the same question from each of them. “Have you met her dad?” Then they would tell me about how badly he would grill the boy before the date. They said he had even left some of them in tears. Now, I was pretty sure that they were exaggerating, but I still was a little apprehensive.

I decided to get to the girl’s house a little early in case I needed to turn on the Mitchum charm. Well, her mother answered the door and a sweeter lady you couldn’t have asked for. She invited me in and asked me to sit on the couch in their livin’ room. We talked for a while and then her husband walked in. I stood and walked up to him to shake his hand. To say he had a scowl on his face, would be an understatement. I stuck out my hand. “Hello, Mr. Smith,” I said. “I’m Rusty Mitchum.” He looked down at my extended hand and then looked back up at me. He didn’t smile and didn’t say a word. He looked over at his wife and then back at me again. Finally, he reached down and grabbed my hand. I could tell by the way he grabbed it that he was goin’ to crush it if he could.

Now, I grew up in a family of firm hand shakers, so I figured I’d match him grip for grip. The more he crushed, the more I crushed back. The only difference in us was that I was smilin’ and he wasn’t. Finally, he let go of my hand.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“Your daughter,” I replied. His eyes narrowed.

“What…did… you…say?” he said slowly.

“Your…daugh..ter,” I replied slowly and loudly. Then he got a look of confusion on his face. Then I looked at his wife. “Is he hard of hearin’?” I asked. She smiled and ducked her head quickly.

“No!” her dad replied. “I’m not hard of hearing.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry, I thought maybe by the way you talked….never mind. I’m here to pick up your daughter. We have a date.” About that time his daughter walked into the room.

“Hi Rusty,” she said.

“Wow!” I replied. “You look beautiful!”

“What…did…you…say?” he dad asked again. I looked at her mother.

“Are you sure he’s not hard of hearin’?” I asked. Her dad took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. I could imagine him countin’ to 10.

“Why do you want to take my daughter out?” he said.

“Are you kiddin’? Look at her! Who in their right mind wouldn’t?” This time he looked over at his wife, who was still lookin’ at the floor smilin’. Then he looked back at me. I noticed a big ol’ vein startin’ to swell up on his forehead.

“Where are you taking her?” he said.

“Well, I thought I’d take her to a movie and then grab a pizza,” I replied.

“I suppose you’re going to take her to a drive-in movie,” he said sarcastically.

“Well, I wasn’t, but if you want me to…” I replied.

“No, I don’t want you to!” he growled.

“Man,” I said, “you’re confusin’ me.” He put his hands up to either side of his head and started massagin’ his temples. He then took in another big breath and sighed.

“What time do you want me to have her back?” I asked.

“What!” he said.

“What…time…do…you…want…me…to…have…her…back,” I repeated. He looked over at his wife like he was askin’ permission to kill me.

“Eleven o’clock will be fine,” his wife said. “You two have a good time.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I said and I grabbed his daughter's hand and headed for the door. I took one more look at her dad. He was standin’ there and his mouth was movin’, but nothin’ was comin’ out.

“Catch you later,” I said, and out the door we went.

“Wow,” said the girl. “I thought he was going to have a stroke.”

“So,” I said. “Where to?”

“How about a drive-in?” she smiled.

“Heh, heh,” I replied. “That’s my girl.”