“Dad, can I have some money?” asked my 13-year-old son today as he headed for the door.

I said, “It depends, where are you going?”

“To see a girl.” he replied,

“Oh yeah,” I winked, handing him some cash, “And who exactly is this girl and when are we going to meet her?”

“You’re not!” He replied: “She’s the cashier in the shop where I buy my cigarettes.”