Having a teenage daughter is a bit like living in the middle of a zombie movie. There will be a knock on the door, and when you open it you'll find standing there a smelly, unwashed, slack-faced male wearing ill-fitting clothes and wanting to take your daughter on a date. When she appears from where she has been shoveling on her makeup, he'll regard her with that zombie-hunger in his eyes.

Your natural impulse is to get rid of this one, but doing so doesn't improve things: There are ot ...

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