MyThreeDaughters

Fontaine’s been busted a few times of late, steering her statements toward the outskirts of the truth. Just little things, like whether she had anything to do with the disappearance of some apparently delicious cherry-flavored Rolaids.
Just little things that, if they continue, that will lead to her being not trusted and kept on lockdown in her room until she is 21.
I know a lot of kids go through this phase. Usually, I just say, “Hey, I think somebody’s pants are on fire.”
But tonight, I was listening to a Grateful Dead song, “Althea,” when I heard a line I thought was appropriate. So I called it out:
Hey that’s a good line for someone: “Loose with the truth, baby, it’s your fire. I hope you don’t get burned,” get it?
Without flinching, she looked back at me: “You’re trying to be mean to me, that’s the only thing I get.”
Wow, girlfriend’s quick.
But she did get it.
O.K., so no more Jerry Garcia as Dr. Spock. I guess that’s why one was a rock star and the other a parenting expert, and why I am neither.