Fun Without Your Clothes Off

I have lied to my parents.  The secret is out.  They know.  I know. My whole family knows. They are amazing parents and have done few things that I would consider doing differently with my own kids someday.  The lying I have done was still necessary and has now made me realize that no matter how great of a parent I am someday, my kids are going to lie to me and it'll piss me off anyways.
Example 
I don't know what my dad's deal is.  He has never been concerned about alcohol consumption, drug usage or premarital sex (it's actually kind of strange his lack of concern over any of these) the way he is when a woman, particularly either of his daughters, drive a vehicle.*  He has been known to give me a terribly hard time even driving to my friends Jenna and Leah's house.  They live twenty minutes away.  If you walk...

I love him dearly, but sometimes I do have to get to places when it's dark out.  I may have to drive when it starts to rain.  And just because there is snow on the ground does not mean I'm going to be the one who hits a patch of ice that is unavoidable.  For instance, I was just getting ready to head back to Erie today for the weekend when I noticed it started to rain.  No, like straight downpour.  Awesome.  The first twenty minutes of my drive all I can think about is how furious my dad is going to be if he calls me because he knows I'm on the road and he follows local weather better than I follow the clearance page on the Urban Outfitters site.  Maybe he would be less concerned if he had me drive something other than this little 90's Corolla that feels more like a go-kart than a vehicle with wipers that make seeing more difficult at times.  I'm sorry to the Jeep from Illinois that was stuck behind me in the construction zone but I'd rather go 55 than graze the cement barrier next to us.  If my dad were to call, which he usually does at very inopportune times, I had scripted, "Yeah Dad. No I know it's supposed to rain for a while.  I've been monitoring the weather radar and I'm leaving at 6 when the rain stops, that way I'll even miss rush hour."

I arrive home safely, didn't have a minute of my drive sans rain.
My father says, clearly disgruntled, "You drove through all that rain, didn't you.  Your mother told me you were coming home at seven."
I owe you one, Mom.  

*He's not an anti-feminist who doesn't think women should drive.  Just not his daughters.