Eleven-year-old, multi-tasking: decorating gingerbread men and compiling her class Christmas card list while making three-way phone calls discussing such things as the pros and cons of dating eighth graders. Talking to this girl, talking to that girl, lots of giggling and screaming, hurting each other’s feelings, making up, hanging up, calling again.
Princess: “I did not say you were fat.”
Me, having overheard way too much by this point: “Girls are SO sensitive!”
Princess: “I was talking to JACOB! Jacob, my mom thinks you’re a GIRL!”