When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturely murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my da
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