This post was originally published on Hahas for HooHas
My daughter is eight going on eighteen. She has the backtalk and eyeroll combination down so well it’s scary. She can exude disgust with the best of them. She’s a prodigy really.
She is so darn anxious to grow up and I am so anxious about the prospect of her growing up. One part of me wants her to stay little forever and the other part of me wants to avoid all the puberty nonsense. My daughter, of course, doesn’t have any of my anxiety about the future. She is just looking forward to all the red carpet events and galas she will go to when she is a grown up. Clearly, she also doesn’t have an entirely realistic view of what being a grown up entails. Recently, the poor girl has learned a hard lesson that everything that she thinks will be so amazing when she grows up, isn’t necessarily so.
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