When my younger sisters started dating, my father was in Texas, or Germany, or somewhere. My brother was in college. My mother was in night school. It fell to me to meet the lads and decide whether or not to allow them to take my sister out on a date. Sometimes, I'd have my sister meet the fella at the door and bring him to meet me in the living room, where I'd be seated in my father's chair, cleaning a shotgun. Sometimes, I'd pull the lad aside and tell him of my friends who all had protective brotherly feelings towards my sisters and would take him out into the woods and leave him naked, tied to a tree (a couple actually would do that). Sometimes, I'd just look 'em in the eyes and make up my mind. Yes, on rare occasion, I wouldn't allow the fellow to take out my sister (No motorcycles. You should have brought a car... And, no two-guys-one-girl. If your buddy has a date, she should be with him when you pick up my sister. Why?!?! 'Cause I don't know you. Get the hell off my property! If you come around here, again, you'll leave behind a body part. Now, git!).
Most of the time, I was the cool older brother. Rarely, my sisters were crying angry with me as I shooed some schmuck away.