My daughter is, in the most objective of ways, awesome. She’s sweet, kind, generous and forgiving. She would adopt every stray she came across if her mother would let her (which she most emphatically will not). She befriends the lonely and protects the weak. She once befriended a stranger laying in a gurney at the hospital when her grandfather was in the ER because she looked “sad and alone”. She just has that kind of gentle and caring spirit. With this in mind, understand my trepidation at the thought of her DATING. For longer than I should have, I just put it out of my mind and hoped it didn’t happen while I still had my sanity. At the very least, I held out hope that it wouldn’t happen until I started drinking again (post-cleanse in Thailand in 2014, I am still more or less alcohol free…damn!). Sadly for me, but certainly more joyously for her, the time has come and, well, I am grossly unprepared. This has led to some very humorous discussions, mostly led by my brave girl, about what I am and what I am not ok with (holding hands, yes, kissing, uh NO). Honestly, her guess is as good as mine. Frankly, I yearn for the days when I was the only one she wanted to hold hands with. Seriously, that was just a month or two ago so don’t judge me. However, at this very moment, she is in my living room WITH A BOY. They are watching a movie. They are sitting on my couch. They are sitting quite close together on my couch. I have not ventured out of my office except to get a decaf coffee and a couple of Girl Scout cookies because, well, I’m a coward. We did go grab dinner together between movies (I am, after all, still chauffer and ATM…I have a role!) during which my daughter’s first boyfriend said, and I quote… “Hey, good news, they reduced my medication.” (Pause for effect.) I am never coming out of my office again.