You know your daughter is a teen-ager when she picks a piece of clothing from e-v-e-r-y rack and voluntarily goes into the dressing rooms while you stand by gaping and checking your wallet.
It seemed like only yesterday Daughter#2 had to be dragged to the shops and pleaded with to try on a new piece of clothing. The age of innocence is over.
And the time of "waiting for hours for her to decide which color looks best on her" is upon us.
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Recently read:
Debriefing
- Flubberwinkle
- Athens, Greece
- Half of the day they call me "Athena" where I get paid to dabble with computers. The other half of the day I'm called "Mom", but I also have an online secret identity. I am bilingual, so what might look like Greek to you, probably is. I blog because it's cheaper than therapy and I like to make people laugh.
