Being a teenager and getting a tattoo seem to go hand and hand these days. I wasn’t surprised when one of my daughter’s friends showed me a delicate little Japanese symbol on her hip. "Please don’t tell my parents," she begged.

"I won’t," I promised. "You're 18 now, so I guess it's your choice. By the way, what does that stand for?"

"Honesty," she said.

When I became a licensed chiropractor, I moved back to my hometown and soon had a thriving practice. One morning I saw a new patient whom I recognized as my old high school principal.

"Gee," I said nervously, "I’m a little surprised to see you here."

"Why?" he replied. "You certainly spent a great deal of time in my office."

My mom wants me to name my kids after people in our family.

So I’m naming my firstborn Uncle Karl.

My boyfriend and I were taking his 19-year-old niece to a weekend festival. When we arrived at her house to pick her up, she appeared in tasteful but very short shorts, and a tank top with spaghetti straps. A debate began immediately about appropriate dress. I took the girl’s side, recalling that when we began dating, I dressed the same way.

“Yes,” said my boyfriend sternly, “and I said something about it, didn’t I?”

Everyone looked at me. “Yeah,” I replied. “You said, ‘What’s your phone number?'”