Condoning underage drinking isn’t something I actively planned or supported for my daughter. The alternative is to do nothing but lecture her on the ills of alcohol as I sip my own gin and tonic. She will have little recourse but to go to her friends to either buy or mooch while she labels me a hypocrite.

So, we had a plan where I would buy and monitor the amount and situations where her drinking does take place. Then she had a thought. “Dad, what if I put six more ounces of vodka in this mickey and then sell them to my friends. That way, the supply is safe, I hang on to the stash and we have cost recovery. Isn’t that a good idea?” She beamed.

I was shocked to hear these words coming out of my wheeling, dealing daughter. On the one hand, she’s become a soulless profiteer taking advantage of her peers whose parents forbid them to drink. But after all, it’s not her fault that her friends’ parents have prohibited them from drinking; she’s just filling a need. On the other hand, I’m not shocked at my daughter’s entrepreneurship. She is after all my kid. For a brief moment, I realized that I needn’t worry about my kid’s future at all. And then I realized, I need to worry about her flexible morality so it doesn’t bend too far like Saul Goodman. I guess the happy medium would be a PG version of Better Call Saul.

I wondered if I was ever like this growing up? No. I was way worse.

After a long stare that is part judgement and part proud father, I sighed and told my daughter not to be an enabler. I know she means well, but her good intentions will have unintended consequences. It’s the same reasons why I won’t cover for her friends. Parents put walls and fences around their children as their way of keeping them safe. Don’t engineer a backdoor, I told her.

Later that night, she went out with exactly two shots in her mickey and a time she is expected home. If the plan deviates, I need to be called right away. She agreed to those terms and out she went to join her friends. I closed the door and enjoyed an evening at home by myself.

I wondered if I was ever like this growing up? Well, I didn’t tell my parents I went drinking much less ask them to buy it for me. In fact, I didn’t even tell them I got a fake ID, either. So, I wasn’t like my daughter; I was way worse. While my daughter is pushing the boundaries, I took all my wood fences and torched them in a bonfire. I think she’ll be fine!