In an earlier column I mentioned that I needed something to motivate me to go to the market. I later realized that without the trips to the market, or other public places around Moorpark, that many of these columns would never see the light of day.

Just the other day, my wife and I were at the market when we ran into one of my daughter's former teachers. We exchanged pleasantries. Then I was asked why I had written about the experiences with my son, Jason, while I was teaching him to drive but hadn't written anything about the same experiences that I've had while teaching my daughter to drive. It was even insinuated that perhaps I was sexist.

I didn't realize how upset this made me until I got home. I am not, in the least bit sexist, but I'm sure that we've all been accused of that, so I let it go. But to even think that I was incapable of publicly humiliating both of my children equally is just too much.

It's true that I have been teaching my daughter Katie to drive. She has become a very good driver, but there were some moments along the way when I doubted that things would turn out this well.

I think that it is important for parents to spend as much time with their children as possible. It may not seem like it at the time, but there will be rewards.

One of my biggest rewards in the early days of my daughter's driving adventure is how it brought back so many forgotten memories of my childhood. Sometimes you might get a hint of an old memory only to find that they are soon returned to the mind's forgotten shelf. In my case, my life has passed before my eyes so many times in the last few months and I have revived memories so often that there are many I will never forget again.

It is quite different for me this time around. With my son, it was always, "slow down," or "don't follow so close." With my daughter, it's more like, "honey, it's good to put some distance between you and the car in front, but please don't stop on the freeway again."

My son was always watching the street lights so that not a moment was lost when the light turned green. It took some time, but I finally convinced my daughter that is was not necessary to wait for the stop sign to change colors.

I will concede that my daughter is perhaps the most courteous driver on the road today under the age of 110. There is never any question of who has the right-of-way. It is always the other driver.

I made great fun in an earlier column about teaching my son how to talk on the cellphone, read the paper and smoke a cigarette while driving. My daughter will have none of this. There is no fooling around with her behind the wheel. She knows the rules and she is going to follow them, no matter what.

I guess I am, maybe, a little sexist. It seems that I've been a little easier on Katie than I was on Jason. In my own defense, I don't think that I'm sexist. I just realize that this has been a wonderful bonding experience and that we have formed a wonderful father-daughter bond. I am someone she looks up to for guidance and knowledge. I am someone whom she needs and wants with her.

Yes, it is a bond that will last a lifetime. Well, at least until

she gets her license and I revert to my former standing of being just another embarrassment to be endured.