Dan – the Don Juan of Derry

My eldest son has morphed from a little boy who once loved Power Rangers and Ben10 to a mini lothario. Forget Hugh Heffner, Derry has its own version of the Playboy king and his name is Daniel O’Neill.
The boy had a ‘steady’ girlfriend in Primary Three. They fell out and ‘split up’ over a Hello Kitty handbag. Things were going swimmingly until near the end of Christmas term. The cracks started to appear in their relationship just as the school broke for the holidays. The Hello Kitty handbag was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
She loved that bag and wanted him to carry it for her, he wasn’t so fussed to be seen sporting a pink handbag with a diamante cat blazoned across the front. A battle of wills erupted beside the recycle bin in the canteen and nether would back down. Their primary three love affair was all over in a heartbeat and I had to bring back my mother of the groom outfit.
This year my petite playboy has been throwing girl’s names around like confetti. This one loves his Belfast accent, that one thinks his spiky hair is really cool, that other one thinks he was so brave not to cry when he got his teeth out. There’s a gaggle of girls around him in the street and in the playground.
I found three cards in his school bag before Valentines Day. All from young ladies in his class professing undying love for the little guy.
He used to be a shy little boy, would never speak up or talk to a stranger. Now he’s telling his friend’s aunt that she’s ‘a babe’ and telling the girl behind the till in the shop that she has really nice eyes. He walks with a swagger, winks at passing girls and has women of all ages falling at his feet.
He wont wear average clothes and wants to style his own hair – apparently nice, sensible brushed down curtain parting is no longer in fashion. Since like when exactly?
I am actually thinking of distributing a questionnaire around his class to find a suitable and sensible girlfriend for my boy.
All A-type answers win 10 points, all other answers win a restraining order.

Question 1. What are you going to be when you grow up?
a/ A solicitor
b/ An exotic dancer
c/ A traffic warden

Question 2. Have you ever been in prison?
a/ No, never
b/ Yes, I have served ‘hard time’
c/ Yes, but only while visiting my father

Question 3. Is Hello Kitty a big feature in your life?
a/ Hello who?
b/ She’s fabulous, she is my life
c/ Yes, in fact I have a Hello Kitty bag that I just adore

Question 4. How important is the mother-in-law?
a/ Super important. I would do everything in my power to make her happy
b/ She’s OK, but like I call the shots
c/ Couldn’t care less about her. I’m going to take her son away and turn him into my actual slave. She might never see him again

Or I could set about organising a dating show along the same lines as the US reality show Momma’s Boys. This is a dating reality show in which a group of bachelorettes vie for the affection of three eligible bachelors – but they must also win the approval of the bachelors' possessive mother. The mothers live with their sons throughout the competition, offering lots of nagging, opinions, arguments and much shooing away of what they feel are undesirable women.
I feel for these poor Mums. No matter what measures they pull out – 24-hour nagging, screaming, crying, blackmail, threats to kill etc – their sons tend to gravitate away from the sensible primary school teacher types the mammies love towards ladies who wouldn’t necessarily be offended by the title ‘Hoochie Mama’.
Who knows what the future holds? What is clear is that he has obviously inherited his father’s irresistible charm with regards female human beings. I can only use these pages as a medium from which to warn others.
Lock up your daughters – and your mothers, aunts, sisters etc – ladies man Daniel O’Neill is on the scene.