Late one Saturday evening, I was awakened by the ringing of my phone. In a sleepy grumpy voice I said hello. The party on the other end of the line paused for a moment before rushing breathlessly into a lengthy speech.
"Mom, this is Susan and I'm sorry I woke you up, but I had to call because I'm going to be a little late getting home. See, Dad's car has a flat but it's not my fault. Honest! I don't know what happened. The tire just went flat while we were inside the theater. Please don't be mad, okay?"
Since I don't have any daughters, I knew the person had dialed my number by mistake. "I'm sorry dear," I replied, "but you've reached the wrong number. I don't have a daughter named Susan."
"Wow, Mom," the young woman's voice replied. "I didn't think you'd be this mad."
"Why is Dad never home?" the 16 year old girl asked her mother.
"Well, dear, he has taken a second job so that you can have iPads, mobile phone, a TV in your room, club memberships, cosmetics, trendy clothes . . . he does it all for you, so his beautiful girl doesn't miss out on a thing."
"Wow," the teenager replied thoughtfully. "That's really very selfish of him, isn't it?"