I was in a situation I'd been in far more times than I cared to count. My ex-wife, my daughter, and her nineteen year old Marine recruit boyfriend were all looking at me like I was an idiot.
"Daddy!" moaned Annette first.
"Good grief, Harold!" Marsha said right after that.
"Uh, thank you, sir," Private First Class Victor Tolliver said, and blushed.
"Daddy, how could you!?" Annette continued and fled the room. Victor followed her, a puzzled look on his earnest blond-cropped hair above the field-green uniform.
"Harold, you really have to learn to watch your mouth!" my ex-wife launched into me.
"I was just trying to be friendly," I said. "You know, make a joke in an awkward situation."
"So you take one look at our daughter's new boyfriend, look him up and down, whistle like a 40's cartoon wolf at a pretty girl and say, 'Very nice!'" my ex-wife repeated my words with relish.
"I'm sure he already knew I was gay," I said.
"Well if he didn't, he certainly doesn't have any questions now, does he? And what is he going to think of our daughter with a father like you?"
"He's going to think she has good taste to pick him?" I ventured.
"Oh, God!" was her sole comment and she left to go help console our daughter.
So I'd stuck my foot in my mouth again. Shit! I had come to town for the weekend to meet my daughter's new boyfriend. I was trying to be gay and a father to a now-adult daughter. Everyone says, when they grow up you have to stop being their parent and start being their friend. Well, I'd just tried that with her new boyfriend, expressing my appreciation at how he was six foot two inches tall, with a wide set of shoulders and slim hips and a basket that filled out even those slouchy green fatigues he was wearing so... oh, my God, that boy must have a huge cock in there! And his face, wide and honest and innocent and kind. Make a joke? Hell, I'd just said the first thing on my lips was all.
My daughter deserved an apology all right. I figured I had better go find her and Victor and apologize to both of them.
As I turned to head upstairs, I saw a blond muscular hunk landing on the bottom step. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Sawyer?"
"Call me Hal," I said. "My friends all do. When I hear the name 'Harold,' it means I'm in trouble for my big mouth again."
"Yes sir," Victor replied, cleared his throat, and then continued, "Can we speak somewhere private, sir?"
"About my, uh, comment earlier?" I asked. "Look, I owe you a big apology. I was just nervous and..."
"It's not that, sir," Victor said. "I know you were just being yourself, sir."
"Yes, I was," I said. "My daughter says that my mouth just keeps flapping long after everyone else is getting tired of hearing it, and I say things without thinking and end up making everything worse the longer I talk and..." I trailed off, sheepishly. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"I guess so, sir."
"Look, let me go apologize to my daughter and then we can chat about whatever it is you want to talk about… assuming I don't get kicked out the door before I can finish apologizing."
"Ok sir," Victor said. "I'll be in Annette's room when you are done."
I followed that so-tight, rounded set of butt cheeks as they began to wobble up and down as he went upstairs. Oh, god, if I could stick my tongue between those cheeks… Shaking my head, I went to apologize to Annette.
Fifteen minutes of saying, "I'm sorry, honey" and "I'm an idiot" over and over did it like it always did. She was wiping her face dry and looked in the bathroom mirror.
"Oh, god, I've ruined my makeup," she moaned. "Mom, do you have any Sunset color lipstick?"
"No dear, but I have Orange Blush," my ex-wife offered.
"That won't do!" Annette moaned.
"What's the difference?" I asked. "An orange blushing versus an orange playing the sun going down behind the hills. Sounds the same to me."
"Haven't you chewed on your boot sole enough today?" my ex-wife chimed in, her favorite way of pointing out I was about to stick my foot in it again.
"Okay, I'll shut up."
"Can't you use a different shade of lipstick?" my ex-wife asked my daughter.
"No, mom, it matches this blouse!"
"Where can we buy it?" my ex-wife asked.
"God, put on some Orange Blush!" I moaned.
"You keep out of this!" Marsha said to me. "Come on honey, we'll go shopping and find you your lipstick and then we'll come back and fix these two baboons something to eat."
"Ook, ook, ook, ook, ook!" I said, scratching myself under my arm.
That got me a laugh and a kiss from my daughter. Now and then I say something right.
I saw them out the door. What was it I had to do now? Oh yeah, Victor! He wanted to talk to me privately about something or other. He seemed like an old-fashioned kind of guy, maybe he wanted to ask for my daughter's hand in marriage. It would explain why my unorthodox but positive response to him was why he wanted to talk to me, but not need an apology for me basically raping him with my eyes.
So I went to my daughter's bedroom with a pretty positive outlook. I found Victor pacing about nervously. I figured for certain that he was about to ask me the question regarding my daughter's hand, and the ownership thereof being transferred from me to him.
"All right, Victor, what is it you want to talk about?"
"Well, it's kind of about… that is… I wanted to… well… I wanted to ask you… if…" Victor started nervously and then stopped.
"Let me save you the trouble of asking me," I said smiling. "I'd be glad to say yes."
"You would?" Victor's face lit up and a grin nearly split it right in two. "God, that's great, just great!"
"Happy to give you my blessing. In fact," I went on, "I hope you'll let me be the one to let it out."
"Uh... certainly, sir!" Victor said.
"I mean, it's my moment to be the one on top of everything, you know," I went on.
"You can be on top if you want to, sir."
"And I know that it will just thrill my ex-wife to know I'm the one doing it."
"You think so?" Victor's eyes showed confusion. Then he shook his head and said, "You know her better than me, but I'd think she'd be the last one who would want to know."
"Are you kidding?" I said. "Marsha is going to want every last detail from me when I'm done."
"You'd be the one to know, sir," Victor said. "Uh, can we take care of it right now, then, while they're gone?"
"Now?" I said. "But there's nobody here to tell!"
"I don't want to tell anyone until we're done," Victor said.
I began to feel that old, familiar feeling. "I've gone and said the wrong thing again, haven't I?"
"Yes sir," Victor said, and then he stepped really close to me, looked me right in my nonplused eyes, leaned in and then I found myself being kissed by this huge, muscled soldier boy!