Me: “Hey, do you know that young couple over there?”
Oldest Daughter, age 14: “Yes. They go to my school. Why do you ask?”
Me: “They keep looking over here, and are about your age, so I figured maybe they were trying to get your attention or something.”
Oldest: “Or maybe they just aren’t good at not getting caught staring at giant hairy Hagrid-looking dudes.”
Me: “Noted.”
Me: “How was your day with Grandma?”
My oldest, age 14: “She caught me trying to use The Force to pick up a book that was out of reach, and now she thinks I’m weird.”
Me: “I’ve tried to use The Force almost every day since about 1982. Grandma thinks I’m weird, too.”
Oldest: “You are weird.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Oldest: “You’re welcome.”
Cost of sharing my musical taste with my daughter: Weekly stops to pore over the CD racks at Half Price books together, and maybe $100 in old CDs over 2 years.
Hearing her squee when Queen comes on the radio in the car, and then getting to head bang together at the appropriate time during Bohemian Rhapsody: PRICELESS.
Very Vocal Viking 