I am embarassed to admit that’s what I muttered under my breath at Kate this morning. That’s because she was being one. I’ve decided it’s better to mutter. The truth is, the minute your children turn 13, they change. Never mind how perfect they are. They change. Some more subtly than others. The tough part is, you don’t. My views are still the same. But now instead of illiciting fan mail and adoration from her, I get rolled eyes, back chat, walking away, you don’t get it, closed doors. I’ve raged, I’ve ranted, and not my finest hour, I’ve called her names. Aloud. But all I get is that look that makes me feel exactly like that idiotic person I am actually being. That holier than thou look that says she would never stoop so low. And she’s right. So, now, I turn away and mutter under my breath. All with love, of course. And because I do know, sadly, this too will pass.