In my daughter's bed

My daughter turned 18 a few weeks ago and she celebrated it with all the heady joy a person serving a life sentence might on discovering she’s been granted a pardon. 'I can drink, I can smoke, I can stay out as late as I like and I can sleep with my boyfriend!' she whooped.

'No, you can't,' I said, because as every parent knows, it’s our job to make our teenagers’ lives as miserable as possible.

'I'm 18! I'm a major!' she insisted. 'You no longer have any say in what I do.'

'True,' I said. 'And I'm also no longer legally obliged to provide for you, so expect a bill for food and lodging at the end of this month.'

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