Before you answer that. Here’s the conversation I had with my 17 year old daughter tonight.
“Dad, you know I’m about to be 18 right?”
“I mean, I’m a senior, about to graduate and then I’m going to college.”
“So…don’t you think it’s okay for me to go to Panama City for spring break?”
“Oh, come on dad. It’s not like I can get into trouble down there.”
“It’s not like I can drink or anything. I’m under age.”
So, we can all rest easier now. They’ve cleaned up Panama City for the kids. It’s impossible now for a teenager to get into any trouble, and they’ve practically eradicated under-age drinking.
I don’t know what bothers me the most, the fact that she’s likely headed to PC for Spring Break, or that she must think her old man is stupid enough to buy her lame campaign. The girl was lobbying hard. “It’s either there or Cabo” she says to me.
Well the truth is, I went to Panama City when I was her age. The morning after graduation I hopped into my dad’s convertable with a buddy and we headed off chasing fun with most of the rest of our class. I don’t know how my folks let that happen to tell you the truth.
Now…I’m in their shoes. And it’s an uncomfortable fit.