DEAR LITTLE MISS KNOW-IT-ALL: My fiancé and I want to hold our wedding in a historic, 80-room castle in France and fly all our friends and family in for free. At the reception, we want a 12-course French meal served by waiters wearing outfits of my own design. The guests must wear all black or all white. I’ve already told my friends they can’t be bridesmaids unless they weigh less than 110 pounds.
The bad news is that my Dad says he won’t pay for it. He thinks we’re too young (Geez, I’ll be 20 in a few years). He said he’d pay for a wedding in our local church if we invite the same old boring friends and family we see every day. And only if my fiancé, Tommy, gets a job. What should I do? – Why Me in Massachusetts
DEAR WHY ME: Can’t you see that your control-freak Dad is trying to wreck your life? You’ve got to get out of that house as soon as possible by marrying Tommy. He sounds dreamy. As soon as you’re married, you’ll find that all your problems will magically disappear. Suddenly, you’ll be happy with the way you look and you’ll be comfortable with your weight. Everyone will suddenly like you, even those snobby kids at your old high school.
I think you should pay for the wedding yourself by maxing out all your credit cards – yours and Tommy’s. After the wedding, you won’t need any money because you’ll have each other. Maybe your stupid father doesn’t know it, but it’s a well-known fact that the more money you spend on your wedding, the better your marriage will be. Don’t let anyone, especially your unbelievably stupid father, step on your dreams. I wouldn’t even invite him to the wedding.
DEAR LITTLE MISS KNOW-IT-ALL: I’m 16 and I want to be a football star or a basketball star. Or maybe a golf legend. The problem is that my parents want me to may apply to one of those colleges that barely even has a sports team like Harvard or MIT, just because I get good grades. They want me to be a scientist or a professor. How do I convince him that being smart is a dumb career move? – Concerned in Mineola
DEAR CONCERNED: Sometimes you wonder where parents get these silly ideas. A scientist?! As if Nike is ever going to pay you millions of dollars to wear their swoosh on your lab coat.
Still, let’s get real. You may never become a $30-million-a-year athlete. You may only be a $5- or $6-million-a-year athlete. If you don’t think you can live with that kind of bitter disappointment, you might as well go to Harvard. I suppose it can’t hurt...