My 18-year-old daughter is friends with a 20-year-old guy.
They are just friends. They met on social media because they like the same things. She tells me, “Dad, do you think I’m stupid? Dan and I are just friends.” Yesterday, she went to his birthday party and stayed overnight. He lives in the city, and we live in the village. I don’t mind; I know his address and have his and his parents’ phone numbers.
In the evening, I got a call from his mom: “Mr. Matthews, don’t worry. Thank you for trusting our son! Lena will sleep on the sofa in the living room, so don’t worry.” I thanked her, but I thought to myself—the only person I trust here is my daughter.
