I knew I was in trouble when my grandma gave me a dollhouse for my fourth birthday and after ripping off the bow, I squealed, "oh, an apartment building for tenants."

Yep, that's me: the landlord's daughter who knows more about fire codes, leases, deadbeats and evictions than her little heart has ever desired.

When I first told my dad I wanted to rent an apartment in State College, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. After he accepted the fact that he would be writing rent checks every month to another landlord, and let me look at apartments, I was the girl asking obscure questions, such as "How are the fire alarms wired?," and "Will I get interest on my security deposit?"

After weeks of searching and not forgetting to ask about garbage collection, lead paint and every stain in sight, I thought I finally found an apartment that would be up to my dad's way-too-high standards.

I'm sure by now my realty company has his phone number blocked; he called for clarification on just about every rule in the lease.

"Wait, we're paying for a whole year's rent and she has to be moved out a week before the 12 months are over? Is that your idea of a year? Oh, just missing out on one week you say? No big deal? Are we going to miss out on one week of heat in the middle of winter?"

A few weeks ago, I made the mistake of telling my dad I lost my apartment key and that they charged me $20. "What!" he exclaimed. "I only charge my tenants if they want their lock changed because their ex-boyfriend won't give back the key!"

When I was younger, I'd accompany my dad when he showed potential tenants available apartments and quietly recite what he told them: "...And in this bedroom is a spacious closet ... the stove is brand new this year."

My dad made it look so easy that I wanted to take over all of the property he owned when I grew up.

So why am I not going into the family business? Well I've learned a lot since the days when I tried to help my dad do his job.

As I got older, I realized that the work is more difficult than just showing apartments and collecting the quarters from washing machines. I can only imagine how much fun he has when he files property taxes.

And recently my dad had to deal with tenants who complained because their neighbor washed her window screens every day at 4 a.m.

He eventually kicked out the screen lady, and boy was she fun to deal with when he took her to court to evict her.

Because of all of the hurdles that must be cleared in order to evict someone, my dad is in court more than Robert Downey, Jr. As a matter of fact I remember always mentioning to my friends that my dad "had to be in court again today." After a while, I realized I never told them why he went so often. They thought he was a habitual law-breaker for years instead of just an honest man evicting tenants who didn't pay their rent.

But my dad was much more than just a source of funny stories for my friends.

I remember the time when I refused to clean my room and he made me go look at filthy apartments to see what would happen if I didn't start cleaning it. There was year-old food crusted on the stove and dirty clothes that smelled so bad it was as if they had not been washed since the last decade.

While the time spent in the dirty apartment wasn't ideal, I have learned a lot from being a landlord's daughter. Everything from the legalities of eviction to changing a blown fuse, and this unique knowledge will continue to help me as I continue to rent from landlords.

I recently signed a new lease for next year, but this time I was sure to ask the realtor about the diameter of the drain pipes and the number of amps in the electrical service just to ensure I am getting the most for my money.

But for now I have to bring home a new lease ... here we go again.