And that folks is the first sign that I'm either getting old or really, really boring. OY.
Second - I stared in awe at a kid Daniel pointed out with a huge Mohawk. Daniel says, "He should be proud of that!" Inside I agree, but can't help but wonder what his mother thinks of his hair choice. OLD.
Third - We're walking around Vons and a group of
Fourth - We walk by some girls with their hair cut sort of like a mullet. I think "Wow! I never thought that would be back in style." OLDER STILL.
Fifth - As we're leaving the center (listening to a very interesting story on NPR) we observe teenagers congregating (yeah, congregating!) in the middle of the street. We watch a girl awkwardly hug some boys in greeting. I can't help but remember that nervousness; that discomfort in my own skin and feel like that was ages ago. It sort of was. OLDER.
Sixth - Driving home, listening to Zoe squeal and sing-talk to herself I might have hoped she's a better teenager than I was. OLDEST.