It happened twice in a 24 hour period.
In the 2nd, and somewhat less alarming case, I was driving Natalie to an outing at the mall with her friends, and she needed some money, and I knew that she had money in her cash account, but I was not sure that I needed to go to an ATM, so I handed her my wallet, and asked her to count the cash in it.
And then it hit me, I just asked my teenage daughter to go through my wallet and count my cash.
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? I handed my daughter my wallet, and I told her to count my money?!?!?
In the 1st instance, we were talking about relationships, and boys, and texting, and we were talking about how some of the kids in her school were making “impolitic” posts to their significant others.
I was trying to impress upon her that “sexting” was a really bad idea, because you never know when pictures like this will end up.
I ended my comments with the statement that, “If she wants to show her breasts to a boyfriend, she should do it in person, and not with a cell phone picture.”
And she looked at me.
And my wife looked at me.
And my son looked at me.
And I realized what I said, and, as a result, I probably looked like a cow that had just stepped on its own udder.
I am so not going to get a trophy for parent of the year.