05/31/2012 12:38 pm ET Updated Jul 31, 2012

The First Time My Daughter Told Me She Hated Me, I Bought Her A Cake

Two summers ago, my daughter crossed a milestone: She told me she hated me for the first time.

She was 15 years old -- nearly 16 -- and we were arguing about her boyfriend at the time. He's still a minor, so I'm not going to use his real name. I asked Kiddo for a substitute, but all her suggestions were unfit for print. I'm going to call him "Dick", because it's a name, and it's the closest to the names that Kiddo chose for him. It's all about compromise, right?