I have several daughters and I have had an interesting time raising them. Its not that they haven’t given me any joy or great satisfaction, its just that they can be at times, rather difficult.Such as meal times, getting ready for school times, or leaving the house times, or watching TV times or in general anytime more than one is awake at the same time, time.Like family vacations. I am usually the most excited for a family vacation, at least at first, mainly because I’m not at work. But after several hours of hearing all sorts of whining, complaining, accusing, tattling and fighting, I’m ready to not only go back to my job, I’m willing to go to any job, as long as it doesn’t involve supervising sisters in a car.I suppose it could be comparable to being a guard at a female prison, but then I’m only speculating here. My daughters would never, ever wear uniforms, or eat together, or walk in line with each other or share a phone line or have anything to do with one another, unless they were absolutely forced to under duress. So then, that’s why at times I feel like a warden.But, the other day, while I was out mowing, I began to think about how much my father and mother in-law fuss over me and their other son-in-law. It finally dawned on me. There is a correlation between the difficulties parents face in raising their children, and the quality of the mates their children marry.You see, I’ve heard horror stories about how things were between my wife and her sister. Her sister was the one who stayed at home and helped cook and clean, while my wife would run and play with friends. (This would explain another aspect of my domestic life, but I’m not going into that) The resulting friction between the two caused much chaos. Hence, when they grew up, they married such wonderful men, Which would be my wife’s brother-in-law and me, of course.So, I actually started whistling. If my theory holds true, (and almost all of them do), the spouses of my children, must be wonderful, talented, exemplary human beings. I wouldn’t doubt one of them would win the Nobel Peace Prize or other such award. And let’s face it, any man that could live with one of my daughters would have to be a saint! Heaven knows, I have to be.At times.