In a personally profound declaration of love and adoration for my eldest daughter, Noosh, I reached my hand back to touch her fingertips and glance at her at a red light while driving home from gynmastics.
Enter stage front seat:
mother I like you, Noosh. I like you and love you and think you’re absolutely wonderful.
daughter I hope I find my pants.
Good lord, not even a smile or glance my way!
At dinner tonight when I recounted the story, she giggled nervously. She’d been so absorbed in her own thoughts she hadn’t even registered what I’d said!
Just how young does the “tween” range begin??