It’s a tween thing

So.

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.

:l

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??

A.

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