Relationship advice to the girls. Part VI

So, as my daughters, you have inherited a few things from me.  A couple of these traits you might even be thankful for.  Most, however, you would probably like to give back.

You are all incredibly smart.  You're welcome.

You each have some form of my quick wit (and one of you has a tongue almost as sharp as my own).  Hold your applause to the end, please.

You all rely on glasses to see beyond the edge of your noses.  Sorry about that one, but you do look smarter when you're not running into walls.

If any of you make it beyond 5'1", that's all me.  Though, I suppose you could blame me for choosing to make you with a pre-teen size man.

You can all spot sarcasm at the first hint of irony.  Yeah, and the first sound of my voice too.

And, each of you ladies will one day get to blame me for just about every other thing you don't want to take responsibility for.  It's my role as your mother to accept such charges without pointing out that you chose to run away and join the circus - I only drove you to it...I mean drove you to the bus stop.

One big thing I hope I don't pass on, though, is the draw to bad boys.  I pray for that harder than I hit my knees for world peace.

Bad boys are just that.  Bad.  I would like you to adopt a policy of "look but don't touch" when it comes to this particular species.  I know what they looked like when I was younger, but they could have different details now.  The basic description, however, is the same.

Goes left when you go right.

Forgets his wallet when it's time to pay at the super classy bar/gas station/liquor store/Applebee's you drove him to because his license is suspended over several misunderstandings between him and a breathalyzer.

Smacks your butt in greeting rather than taking your hand.

Eyeballs your friends like they're the next course.

Gets eyeballed by your friends because the bad boy syndrome is widespread.

Hides his phone like it has military codes he would have to kill you for.

Answers questions with vague and mysterious words like "huh?", "no way, baby, they take away all the sensation", and "you're crazy, that wasn't me, I was home thinking about you!".

And, probably most telling, a bad boy is the one to which your mama says "no, love, take that idiot out of my house.  We're calling him a cab".

You'll want to defend him.  You'll think he's sexy and exciting.  Then, once that wears off, you'll think you can change him.  You'll do all of these things with the purest of intentions and the strongest of desires to defy me.

I pray this doesn't happen.  I have my fingers crossed that you're the first generation to lack the bad boy magnet gene.  In the likely event that you fall victim, though, you can blame me.  However, I have warned you about the catastrophic effects, so I'm not paying the psychiatric bill.  Check the fine print on our contract, full disclosure nullifies my financial responsibility.

That's one more thing you could've inherited from me - the art of a well placed word.  Thou art welcome.