Twelve Today

All of a sudden her jeans are too tight

and her legs are long and her eyes are deeper and more revealing.

She has to be told to stop texting when it’s almost midnight.

She overreacts and flies off the handle and seems to be

pulling away, pushing away.

She’s got more secrets, it seems,

and she’s becoming not cuter but more beautiful.

Homework is more important than food.

She still giggles when playing with puppies

and talking about boys.

But she talks about boys more.

Or maybe it’s my imagination.

I haven’t lived with a freshly-minted twelve-year-old before.

In my imagination, she’ll always be my “Squid,” my “Noodles.”

She’s so amazing,

so special to me

and I don’t want to lose another one.


Happy 12th birthday, Nikita.