When I hang out with Roo-girl on the weekends, there are always those moments when I think, "Omigod, this is the best blog fodder ever."
And then I come home and ... uh ... what was that she said again?
This one, though? This one I remember.
If you're male, this would be a good time to put your hands over your ears and eyes, and sing along with me: "La la la la la la la la la la."
Either that, or go hang out here. We'll let you know when it's safe to come back.
So, girls. Are we alone? Good. Here's the scoop.
Miss Roo-tini is, as we have discussed previously, quite petite -- and a late bloomer to boot. At going-on-14, she has not yet had the pleasure of becoming a "woman."
In plainspeak, she hasn't gotten her period yet, and for reasons that totally escape me, she is NOT PLEASED.
Especially when she found out that I was not 14, as she believed, but actually 15 when I "bloomed."
"Fifteen?????" she shrieked at me. "FIFTEEEEEEEEN??????"
Yes, dear. And you should be happy about that.
But she is clearly not.
"Everyone I know ..." she harumphed.
Dudette, I told her, don't be in such a hurry. It's an inconvenience and a pain in the butt that you will be dealing with for-freaking-ever. Long after you care about having babies and she has any use to you at all, Aunt Flo will be around to annoy you.
That doesn't matter to her, though. She feels deprived somehow.
"What about your friends?" I asked. "Don't they tell you the same thing?"
Roo looked at me and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah," she said. "They all walk by me and scream in my face: 'I HATE YOU!' "
I could not speak for 15 minutes due to excessive laughter.