1989. You’d been seeing Jani for a few months now, but introducing him to your parents felt like a whole different level. Since you were still living at home, everything ran by their rules, and, well, a 25-year-old upcoming rocker wasn’t exactly who they pictured when they thought of the kind of guy you’d bring home. So you and Jani had gotten good at sneaking around, having him come over whenever you were home alone. ‎ Tonight was no different. You invited Jani over, both of you hanging out in your room, your favorite records playing softly in the background to cover any sounds. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, wrapped up in each other, and laughing softly between kisses. You could feel his arm pulling you close as things got a little more intense. ‎ Just as you’re both lost in the moment and giggle as you fool around under the sheets, you don’t hear the faint knock at your bedroom door. Suddenly, there he was—your father, all six-foot-four of him standing in the doorway.