by M M Johns

Created on: October 31, 2008   Last Updated: November 09, 2008

A teenage daughter - a mini tornado; multiple personalities; mood swings; studious and an achiever; party animal.

A father who looked at her and still saw the little girl he had taken to the zoo, the park and suffered at the hands of her young aspirations to be a hairdresser. A father who was to experience self doubt and introspection as he endeavoured to guide her through those teenage years.

I am sure that the five year period between the ages of thirteen and eighteen almost drove me to an early grave. She was, and still is, blessed with lovely blond hair hair, blue eyes and a slim and athletic figure. The absolute dream of every schoolboy and a father's worst nightmare. I had heard from other fathers about their feelings as their children started the process of developing an interest in dating. However, nothing could have prepared me for the feelings that were to descend on my unsuspecting head.
That time of incessant curiosity, of raging hormones and bodily changes. Oh how I prayed that time would stand still and my baby girl would remain the same. As with most fathers, I suspect, there was the self doubt as to whether or not I had done a good enough job in the formative years to help her through this period. From being a reasonably tidy child she turned the house upside down, make up items, school books and clothing left lying all around the place. Her room was a sanctuary where only she could find something, maintaining that she had a system, and for her mother to tidy up would result in the loss of invaluable items. Her room became a meeting place for her friends. Laughter and shrieks emanated all weekend from behind the firmly closed door. What they were discussing was to remain a mystery to me for many years.
During the week she would study hard, allegedly; but from 4pm on a Friday she changed into a girl whose main interests lay in what was about to happen at parties, forays to the shopping mall or dates to the movies. Or worse still - the drive in! It was at weekends when the plaintive cry "Daaaad" could be heard as she sought me out with the sole intention of accessing my wallet. My little girl would explain why she required the latest items of clothing, jewellery, make up or just additional funds to keep up with her friends as they spent countless hours in a cafe.
From the start it became an accepted practice that any boys taking her on a date would pick her up from the house. This gave me a chance to assess their suitability. In the beginning it would

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