One minute, they're your darling little angel. The next, they're airing out all of your dirty laundry in front of total strangers.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, to close out this year's Young Thespian's Summer Drama Club, we present to you an original monologue written and performed by a very talented young lady. Please give a warm round of applause to Olivia!"

As Tim watched Olivia walk out to the middle of the stage and into the spotlight, he wondered if he might be more nervous than she was. She looked so confident, so poised, so not like the little girl who would cling to his leg when he'd drop her off at day care or bawl when she sat in any lap but his during a story before bed.

When did she learn all these words that were pouring out of her mouth? Wasn't it just yesterday that she only ever seemed to say the word "monkey" over and over again? Was this the same little girl who used to assemble, color, and create with her the corrugated cardboard Medieval Castle, Safari Cruiser, or Undersea Explorer National Geographic play environments for hours, and then pull her dad into the room to perform a little story she'd made up? It couldn't be. This Olivia seemed so mature and wise as she spoke of responsibility, being restless in one's work, and wishing for...

Tim quickly opened the program in his lap and squinted in the darkness to see the title of her monologue. "When Dad Comes Home From Work," it read.

Tim reached over and took Michelle's hand. Olivia was becoming a perceptive, intelligent, and creative young woman. He'd never been more proud.

Which is why, he'd later tell the policeman taking his statement after the show, he turned around and punched the guy behind him in the throat for saying "Geez, what a whiner. I'd hate to be that kid's father."

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