Dating Daddy

Dis tew much…

As you mature, the variables in your dating world ( if you’re still swinging on the single circuit) are sure to change. What you wanted when you were 16 changes once you hit 25, and drastically transitions after Dirty 30. Whether it be physical attributes or personality traits, what you want in a significant other must evolve. For instance, when I was 16, I wanted my guy to have the following:

  1. Have a car, so he could pick me up from boarding school
  2. Look like Ginuwine
  3. Could dance or sing
  4. Had an earring

When I reached my mid-twenties, my wants and needs were a bit different:

  1. Have a car
  2. Have a job
  3. Went to college
  4. NO KIDS

Now that we’re talking about babies, I want to be clear that I didn’t want to date anyone with kids when I was 16. Granted, I knew a handful of young juveniles who were 16&Pregnant before MTV glamorized it, but it wasn’t a criteria that was on my radar. However, once in my 20s, I was introduced to the concept of the “baby mama”, as 95% of the people I knew with kids were not involved in holy matrimony. So I thought I still had some time to find a guy with a clean slate like myself, so maybe we could have our own cute ass children. Now that I’m in my 30s and still without man or child, my list is a BIT different, to go along with the times:

  1. Car and job are still essential
  2. Solid retirement plan
  3. Funny
  4. Kids are totally cool, but…

The “BUT” is what this post is all about. Look, I’m 30-whatever, and I am certainly not blind to the fact that my dating pool is now filled with men who have children and have been married. For me to dismiss an entire segment of the population would be crazy, as there are plenty of good men out there who have families. For many women (and men) that choose not to date people who have children, that’s fine- it’s a personal choice. I believe in giving everyone a chance. Ok, I don’t believe in giving EVERYONE a chance because that sounds a bit loose of me, well, you know what I mean…

Now that I think about it, dating a man with children really hasn’t worked out for me. My last three relationships were all with men who had children, and obviously none of those ended with me being the coolest step-MILF that ever walked the Earth. But those relationships didn’t work not because they had kids, it’s because they were assholes. Ok, one of those relationships met its demise because of kids, mainly a kid that I never knew existed.

Let me be clear, I have no problem “dating daddy”. Well, I would if he asked me to call him daddy, because I think calling your significant your father ( even in a casual way) is awful. The only men I’m addressing with any derivative of “Father” is Jesus and Biggie Smalls. But if you have children, that’s alright with me. There’s something about seeing a man with his children that is absolutely beautiful. With that being said, there are some stipulations to me becoming daddy’s “lady friend”. If I am going to love you and your posse, I need to lay down some ground rules:

  • I will not date anyone who refers to their ex as their “baby mama”. Anyone who has one of those, I don’t want you. Now if you have an ex-wife, or “mother of my children”, that’s acceptable.

 

  • If you don’t tell me that you have children and I have to find out on my own, that’s a problem. “You didn’t ask”, is a not a valid response. Also, if it takes you longer than a second to respond after I ask what your child’s name is, that’s not good either.

 

  • If you ever use the term “babysit” when referring to the duration of time that your children are under your care, I just can’t.

 

  • If your kids are not a priority in your life, we will not make it. If you only shop at Bal Harbour, have more Jordans and Ferragamos then I do hair products, yet you complain about a $600 child support payment, I’m out. You need to have priorities, people.

 

  • If you’ve ever been on Maury, I am not going to date you. Or you’re involved in a Maury-like scenario, don’t even ask me out. If you’re not 1000% sure that 5-year-old Danquavius is your child, I just can’t. Not even. Literally.
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