I kind of like it, too, although I should get my quibbles out of the way first.
The shirt suggests that we’re talking not about an adult woman but an underage daughter.
“He wants a glass of wine,” she says, gesturing toward her boyfriend. ” I consider: The boy’s nineteen, he’s not going to be driving that evening, it’s a special occasion and we’re talking a few sips of chardonnay. But to my surprise he hesitates, then fills his glass with water. I should probably mention here that my husband is an extraordinarily sweet guy. He treats me so well that some of my friends have forbidden me from ever complaining about him.
And he has never said a cross word to our daughter’s boyfriend.
The implication here is that a teenage girl isn’t capable of making her own choices about her romantic and sexual life, and—even worse—that her chastity “belongs” to her father, who has the right to protect it from any young man who dares to approach her. You know who a teenage girl’s sexuality and chastity belong to? She gets to decide what she wants to do, whom she wants to do it with, and when she wants to do it.