It must be hard being a dad, especially a dad to daughters.

I was hardly a rebel in school and was too afraid to do anything wrong. My dad was the school board president, member of the bank board, very involved in the church and the community. He was also a very cool guy. He loved Scotch and sodas, he was a diehard football fan, had an incredible moral compass and tried to install all of this on my brother and me. My brother is another story.

With all of that said, I remember when it came time to shave my legs for the first time. We had foreign exchange students at our house - a beautiful girl from Finland named Mirjia. She had the Joshua Tree album and shaved legs. I was in AWE. I remember listening to U2 and lying on the floor of her room, dreaming about this big world I'd never seen. Plus, I wanted those damn smooth legs, of course.

Next up was the great issue brought forth by Margaret - as in, "Are You There God, It's Me Margaret" - Margaret. As in, The PERIOD. We young girls read the book and we waited, and we waited, and we waited. And nothing. Finally, for me , it came. Nothing really monumental about this except mom was so elated, she told me I didn't have to finish mowing the lawn. Worked for me. Pissed off my brother - even better.

But ... there came a time when I needed, um, 'supplies'. And mom's sanitary belt-boat napkins just weren't cutting it for me anymore. And ... I should add ... we lived about 2 miles from town. And I needed a ride in to the drugstore, and the only adult at the house was ... my dad.

My poor dad.

I told him I really needed to go to the drugstore - that it wouldn't take long. We load up in the pickup, and he says, "We can drop off the movie we rented after you're done". Fine. I go into the drugstore, all secretive, and buy my tampons. The clerk brown bags my purchase, and I go back to pickup.

Conversation with my dad down Main Street to Movie Store (all of two blocks):

Him: What's in the bag?
Me: Nothing.
Him: What's in the bag??
Me: NOTHING! LEAVE ME ALOOOOONE!!! GOSH!!
Him: silence

I see now, in retrospect, my poor father must have thought something was up. You know, I must be buying condoms or something. People, TAKE NOTE: if I had proof of just how ugly I was then, you'd know (just like me then) how impossible this feat would have been. Big ol' teeth, bad hair, bad skin, bad clothes, and not a chance in hell of a kiss goodnight anytime soon. (and it would be years before the infamous County Fair kiss)

When I finally excised myself from the situation and dropped off the movie for him, I came back to the pickup to find my dad, red-faced, and the brown bag mostly unrolled and obviously violated by my father's prying eyes. I was humiliated. I remember screaming and crying and totally over-reacting (uh, nothing new now, either). I remember him apologizing, too. And I remember telling him, "IF THERE IS SOMETHING YOU NEED TO KNOW, I WILL TELL YOU!" But I meant it - and I kept my word.

I was a really, really good girl in high school. I didn't drink until I went to college. I had decent grades. I felt the Lord's Wrath if I lied or cheated. I played the piano for every church service and accompanied the choir. I taught Bible School. I believed in the Fire and Brimstone. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. I still have the world's biggest guilt on my shoulders. I will feel guilty about ANYTHING. Therefore, I can say with certainty: I did NOT sneak out once.

I had the option my senior year in high school. Two boys from my high school class (we had a class of 19, with A LOT more girls than boys, mind you) showed up late, late one night at my bedroom window, begging to 'come inside and just, you know, TALK'. Well, the one did anyway. The other guy passed out in my mom's flower planter.

I told Jackass #1 to wait a second, that I had to make sure my parents were asleep ... then went upstairs and woke up my 6'5" 240 lb daddy. He met said Jackass with a shotgun, and told him to leave right that instant. He did. And told me last year at our class reunion just how scared he was that night. In truth, my dad was harmless. He was a good, honest man and he was trying to keep me honest, too. And he did. I told him the truth and he was on my side, always.

You know what they say: Daddies can own their daughters hearts. The rest of the guys? Well, they just rent space there ...