When my daughter came home after her first day of school as a senior and announced that she was in love again, I told her to stop exaggerating.

"No, mom. This time it's real, I swear! I can feel the chemistry from Paulie. He is the one!" My daughter (Candace) seemed rather positive, this time.

Unfortunately, she always seemed positive at the beginning of one of these relationships; that is, until the bastard hit her, or cheated on her, or bragged about his conquest, or finally dumped her for the next hot chick in his burgeoning portfolio!

I'm no prude. In fact, I let my little angel "do the nasty" so she could learn (before it is too late) how impossible or nearly impossible it is to find a really great guy. Naturally, I placed Candy on birth control pills so that the ultimate mistake would not rob her of her young adult life.

A great deal of angst was already thrust on her when my husband died in a plane crash. We were financially set but manless - both of us.

When school re-opened, I was afraid this new boy had probably gotten word about my daughter and planned to use her sexually for heaven knows how long. It's the down side to granting freedom and it's my worst nightmare.

But a month later, Candy's head was still up in the clouds over this new kid (Paulie), so I offered a dose of 'tough love', asking, "Don't you think this Paul character is just in it for some pussy? Maybe some of his friends passed the word along."

Instead of being incensed, Candy broke into a far away smile and said, "Who cares? He's the greatest hunk I've ever had. He's even found my "G" spot!"

I was momentarily taken aback by that revelation. I couldn't debate whether or not there even WAS a "G" spot since no guy had ever found mine!

I came back to my ultimate agrument, saying, "Only one girl in a thousand actually finds her soulmate in high school, so don't get too carried away with him. You're just marking time until he hits college. Enjoy the ride, but don't buy the car!"

Like a dagger through the heart might bring about, Candy's countenance lowered dramatically while she digested my dose of reality.

But it was for her own good. Not three weeks later, Candy arose slowly, one Saturday morning. She could barely even walk!

I asked her if she got in late, last night.

She admitted getting home at nearly sunrise after a marathon session with Paul.

"Where did you two go?" I blurted out.

"To HIS room!" Fretted Candy. "We did everything in the Kama Sutra, and then some!"

"Didn't he, at least, feed you?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh, his dad made us some steaks off the grille, salads too. He even offered us Bloody Mary drinks to go with them, saying they are great with steaks because they are perfect substitutes for steak sauce. I declined." Candy finished filling me in.

"Where was Paul's mom?" I suddenly remembered to ask.

"She died two years ago. Paul's dad now lives his life through Paul." Candy replied.

"What is THAT supposed to mean?" I had to ask.

"They do everything together," Candy answered, then added, "Well, everyhing except..."

"I get it!" I said, cutting her off, but Paul's father sounded like someone worth meeting, if only I could get some background on him from Candy.

I mean, "What the hell?" If Candy's dating the son and finds him so dreamy she'd quit the rest of humanity, then he must have learned his interpersonal skills from his parents. There was a good chance that he learned his sexual skills from his dad!

Being a concerned parent, never mind my personal agenda, I told Candy it might be nice if I met Paul and his father.

Like many kids, Candy suddenly became concerned about this - as if meeting me might be the kiss of death for their relationship. (What young boy wants to meets the parents of the girl he's currently banging? It's an extra set of eyes for the guilty nightmare!)

But Paulie was all for it. He told my daughter it was only fair. She had met his father. (I KNOW it's not the same!)

Candy told me, "Saturday night at six, and I told them you love "Italian"."

I was beside myself in trying to impress Paul's father. I gave Candy her figure, and mine was still youthful, even fuller at the breasts. I was not yet sporting cellulite and my hair was still shiny auburn. Candy was a bleach blond, but Paul would know that by now!

We fawned over ourselves for so long that we were late, but then no one showed up, well past six!

My heart sank when I thought we were being stood up, and when only Paul showed, at almost 6:30, I waited for the bullshit speech.

Paul was really smooth, perfunctorily greeting Candy but pumping ME up with a gratuitous letdown, or so I thought.

He surprised me, saying, "My God, Mrs. Archer, you are even more beautiful than Candy... led me to believe." He caught himself in the 'faux pas' and added those last four words just in the nick of time.

"Thank you," I said, realizing just how smooth this young man could be. Then I asked, matter of factly, as if I wasn't going to die over the bad news, "So, tell me, where's your dad?"

"Oh, he's home cooking dinner. He sent me to collect you, and to pick up some semolina bread." Paul finished.

I looked at Candy for some sort of signal that it was safe to prattle on about Paul's lateness, never mind ours, but she sent me mixed signals.

I felt that pissing and moaning about THEIR lateness was a lousy way to try to ingratiate myself, so I kept my mouth shut.

But I had to speak up when Paul's ride was a Lincoln Towncar Executive.

"This is dad's car," Paul answered. "My little Mustang might be too cramped."

When we got there, I felt a bit outré because we didn't bring the wine, but I explained that I thought we were going out to eat.

"Not to worry, my dear," said Paul's father, "and my name is also Paul."

"I'm Renata Archer," I replied.

Introductions aside, the first thing that came out from "junior" was, "Veal pizzaiola tastes like leather if you let it get cold, so when Candy warned us that you'd be fashionably late, we added thirty minutes to the ready time for dinner. We're sorry."

The place was appointed for a king... or rather, a gourmét: semolina bread, eggplant rollatini, Chianti, the veal, and for dessert: tiramsu.

It's a wonder little Paulie wasn't fat!

Paul senior was smart enough to remove the wine after pouring out glasses. He removed the temptation for the kids to take advantage.

The wine mixed nicely with the onion and garlic sauce of the veal dish. It was four star all the way around. The only thing awry was that young Paulie kept stealing glances at MY breasts and not Candy's, and Paul senior seemed to take an inordinate interest in Candy!