For those of you I am about to offend, I apologize in advance. But the following is a somewhat accurate transcription of actual events at our house. Sort of. So, don’t be a hater; I love God, I love Jesus, and I dang sure love me some Tim Tebow.


Dear Tim Tebow:

I’ll bet there’s a lot of pressure on you already, what with you being the Broncos’ quarterback, building third-world hospitals and all, and inventing Tebowing.  I really hate to add to the stress, I do, but Tim Tebow, only you can save my daughter.

We’ve done (almost) everything right with 15-year old Susanne, but you know how precarious morals and behavior are in a girl this age. For awhile, we had her wearing a WWJD (What Would Jesus Do)  bracelet as a reminder of how to act. Then she discovered live boys, and a dead Jesus, even a risen one, just didn’t completely cut it anymore.

We’ve seen signs she may be headed down the wrong path. When she was in 8th grade, she had 23 unexcused absences to homeroom, and it’s possible she was selling drugs or committing sins of the flesh when unaccounted for. Another time she didn’t return her leftover lunch money at the end of the week, and I am pretty sure that breaks one of the Ten Commandmants, but I’d have to look it up. Also troubling are her attempts to emulate Angelina Jolie.

I think that’s the worshipping false idols, right? Anyway, I saved the worst for last. At Halloween, she made this cake:

Clearly, this cake is decorated with twelve penises. I don’t know where that one falls vis a vis the Commandmants, but I know that it is bad, really, really bad.

Things have improved lately, and this is where you come in. Last month, Susanne announced that she was marrying you, Tim Tebow. My husband and I discussed the possibility, and we want you to know that, while she is still a little young, you have our blessing. However, in the meantime, we assume you would like her to graduate from high school with virtue intact and no criminal record.

To that end, we have a new and effective strategy to control Susanne’s more wayward behavior.  Let me give you an example.  Last night, I asked her to set the table and was aghast at her response:

Me: Sweetness, would you please set the table for our sit-down family dinner, and be thinking about what you are thankful for. It’s your turn to say grace.

Susanne: Mom, I don’t have to set the table. I’m going to marry Tim Tebow and be really rich and have a maid to set the table. I’m thankful for that.

You see what I mean? So then I prayed about it for a while, and that’s when I received what I took as a message directly from God: only Tim Tebow can save my daughter.

So, I said: Susanne, I haven’t met your fiance personally yet, but from everything I’ve read, I believe he would want you to honor your mother. I’m concerned about the impact of your behavior on your upcoming nuptials.

Susanne, eyebrows raised: Huh?

Me: Please, Susanne, set the table and make Tim Tebow proud of you.

Susanne, flipping her hair: Make Clark [her brother] do it.

Me: Susanne, Tim Tebow wants you to set the table.

Susanne, with her hand up: Whatever.

Me: What I meant to say, Susanne, is that Tim Tebow told me to tell you to set the @#$%* table. Right now.  And I’m not kidding.

And you know what? She did. I’m really pleased with the positive impact you have on her; I think that’s the kind of relationship any parent would hope for.

Right afterwards, I snapped this photo:

I think it’s a sign.

If you can resurrect the 1-4 Broncos and bring them to the playoffs, I feel certain you are strong enough to save my daughter.

Thanks in advance.

Your Future Mother-in-Law,


p.s. Please, God, forgive me for telling my daughter that Tim Tebow used the word @#$%*.

p.p.s. If things don’t work out between you and Susanne, Tim Tebow, I have two more daughters.

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