One dear friend of mine, had a very straight-laced father. She was shocked and delighted when she met my father, Joe, because he was (in her words) “very naughty!” Sometimes, I have been asked what it was like growing up with him as a father. I usually tell this anecdote.
One Sunday morning when I was a teenager, Joe confronted me. “Where were you at 1am last night?” he demanded.
“I… ummm.. errr…” I stuttered, quite startled. “Wait a minute! What are you talking about? I was home at 11pm, and in bed by midnight.”
“Oh, I was just checking!” his face a grin, “I didn’t get home until 3am.”
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