I have two children – both girls.  One is eight and one is twelve.  There is nothing I enjoy more than being a dad.  Aside from the whole “paying for two weddings” thing, having girls is great.  I love taking them shopping, to plays and musicals, shopping, getting their hair and nails done, shopping, etc.

There are moments as a dad of daughters that every man dreads.  The first is the day you have to take them shopping for bras for the first time.  That begins the era of policing every item of clothing they buy.  You must make sure the neckline or the waistline isn’t too low.  Prepare for rolling eyes and complaining… it’s unavoidable.

The second would be when you have to deal with the arrival of “that time”.  We were on our way to go hiking, and made a pit stop at a gas station to grab water and snacks.  All of a sudden, my kid comes running out of the restroom and announces loudly what she thinks has happened.  I calmly bought the needed supplies, gave them to her… and went out to get mom out of the car.

Thankfully, my wife decided she wanted to care of the “birds & bees” conversation.

Which brings me to the latest hurdle.  She’s 12 1/2 years old and over the weekend she wanted to talk to my wife and me to set up a timeline for when she’d be able to get more independence.  Specifically, she wants to know when she’ll be able to:

“Go to the mall with her friends without us”
“Have a ‘boyfriend’ she can hold hands with”
and “Go on group dates with several friends”

My life just got very complicated.  I’ve been curled up in a fetal position all week.