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Fathers, men first, have trouble seeing their adorable teens in spike heels

Stuart and I had our share of arguments about our oldest child. He was shocked and told her so, seeing her in high heels, black stockings, a body-hugging black jersey and mini-skirt that halted midway between knees and thigh.

“Dad, mini is the style and so are body suits, for cripes sake, and black is in!”

But I suspected all he saw were large breasts, nipped in waist, spike heels, black all over and a crown of thick black hair. In short, he saw a prostitute when what he wanted was his adorable little girl. Cara seemed not as shaken by these put-downs as she might have been. I thought I understood the awesome threat that underlay his aversion to her appearance. He had been a man first before a father and sexual connections take a lot of space in a man’s baggage no matter how guys move from one passage to another. Yet how needy a daughter is for her father’s approval—that first male in her life—to assure her that she is feminine and desirable. The very attributes the father dares not see.

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