Recently, my wife found employment, and we were going to have my stepdaughter watch our 5-year-old. That was a debacle that would have ended badly, so my wife quit to watch her. At this point, I'd had enough and told them we would be raising the rent. They were required to pay $400 a month for both of them. I gave them six weeks to get things in order and for my stepdaughter to look for a job. Instead, after a couple of weeks, they snuck out in the middle of the night and left town to go live in a cramped apartment with his family. Now I am being portrayed as the bad guy. Was there something I could have done differently? — Bad-Guy Dad

Dear Bad: I think you did things just right. These kids sound like hot messes, and irresponsible in the bargain. Sneaking out in the middle of the night was a nice touch — especially considering you are family. I'm sure you wish them luck in the boyfriend's parents' apartment. One can only hope somewhere along the line they grow up. Do allow yourselves to feel relieved that their maturing process is taking place somewhere else. (As the wonderful jazz drummer Bobby Rosengarden used to say: "You got a fluckey." You may have to say this out loud to get it.) — Margo, thankfully

"This Is Certainly Less Traditional." I'll Say

Dear Margo: My husband and I are in the phase of our lives where friends' children are starting to get married. More and more, we are seeing gift registries where they don't request toasters, blenders, china, etc, but are asking for "contributions" to their honeymoon, a down payment on a house, etc. In other words: money! Am I an old crank who is just out of it? I always thought "envelopes" were for mafia weddings. What do you think of this? — Fuddy Duddy

Dear Fud: First, let me say that there are many cultures that favor "envelopes" as the gifts of choice — which does make a certain amount of sense. You are not alone in your reluctance, however, to make a gift of cash. One woman told a reporter writing about this trend, "It sounds cheesy to me," and said she'd rather give something they can have forever to remember her by. A young woman who was using this new kind of registry (to pay for a European honeymoon) responded, "The only difference is that friends are helping us buy experiences, rather than things."

Because couples are marrying later and living together first, one can assume they most likely already have household things. It is heresy, I know, but I have no objection to this. We are not living in the days of Emily Post ... although her grandson, Peter Post, also thinks this relatively new practice is OK. Console yourself with the idea that it's easy on the gift-giver (no shopping) and it's what they want. If you can't get with this program, by all means send whatever you would like. No one will call you names, but neither will they toast you in Paris! — Margo, liberally

One Hour at 350 Degrees

Dear Margo: This is kind of goofy (and certainly dates me), but do you by any chance have your mother's famous recipe for meatloaf? I was thinking about it the other day when a girlfriend served a really modern meatloaf — I mean it was made with pine nuts, raisins, maple syrup, and who knows what else? It reminded me that I loved her old-fashioned meatloaf recipe, which I still remember from years ago. This is not exactly a problem, I know, but I would be so grateful if you could supply it. — Susanna in Chicago

Dear Su: I haven't thought of that meatloaf recipe in decades! You may not know this, but it became very famous. No one ever knew why. (Maybe because it was good?!) My mother said it was her sister Helen's recipe and mentioned that Helen lived in Omaha. For mysterious reasons, requests poured into the Ann Landers office for that recipe — and also flooded the Omaha post office, addressed simply: "Helen's Meatloaf." The postmaster in Omaha wrote Mother a letter begging her to give her readers' proper addresses. Anyway, here it is, and thanks for the memories. (Hope they still sell dry onion soup mix!) — Margo, nostalgically

Ann Landers' Meatloaf Recipe

2 pounds ground round steak

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups breadcrumbs

3/4 cup ketchup

1 teaspoon Accent

1/2 cup warm water

1 package dry onion soup mix

Beat all thoroughly and put into a loaf pan. Cover mixture with two bacon strips. Pour an 8-ounce can of tomato sauce over meatloaf and bake for one hour at 350 degrees F.

Serves 6.

"Are All the Good Men Taken?" No

Dear Margo: Are all the good men taken? There seem to be a lot of articles describing how women are finding it harder and harder to find a good mate, and I'm afraid I'm one of them. I feel I got left behind due to bad luck, bad statistics and bad timing. About three years ago, I went to therapy to sort out relationship issues from my chaotic childhood, and I unloaded a lot of baggage that I was toting around.

Now I'm 32, educated, intelligent and more confident and emotionally stable. But as I re-enter the dating pool, all the guys I meet seem to be the messed-up person I used to be! They either avoid connecting or are incredibly insecure and need a lot of reassurance. All the stable guys settled down long ago (while I was in therapy!).

I'm not looking for some imaginary ideal match, but someone who is decent and respectful, with some common interests would be nice. Should I hold out for a stable, secure relationship (I want kids), or do I accept that no one is perfect and maybe my options are fewer at this point in my life? — Missed the Boat

Dear Missed: It's funny: "Are all the good men taken?" is a question that has been asked for ages by every woman who hasn't yet found her good man. It is easy to think, when the pickings are slim, that the prize guys have all settled down — while you were in therapy! Not true, my dear. Keep looking, and by no means settle for the first thing in trousers. Of course, "no one is perfect," but some are more perfect than others for you. Your requirements sound solid to me.

As for the "common interests" part, when you attend or participate in things that interest you, a likeminded soul will undoubtedly be there, too! And by today's standards, your age is considered young relative to getting married. In some ways, it is harder these days to meet suitable partners, and in some ways, it's easier. So hang in, hang on, and keep truckin'. — Margo, patiently

Dear Margo is written by Margo Howard, Ann Landers' daughter. All letters must be sent via e-mail to dearmargo@creators.com. Due to a high volume of e-mail, not all letters will be answered.

COPYRIGHT 2011 MARGO HOWARD