The daughter: "I couldn't even squeak out 'Hi!'"
Me: "I'm pretty sure I heard you say 'Hi.'"
The daughter: "My mouth opened and nothing came out. I squeaked. And you were just chatting with them."
Me: "I wasn't chatting..."
The daughter: "You were. Chatting! I was so envious. I was just standing there with a dumb smile and my eyes all huge."
Me: "I said, 'Hi.' 'Thank you.' and 'We will.' That isn't chatting."
The daughter, mournfully: "I was so envious."
Me: "And then, of course, Jack Black."
The daughter: "AUGH!"
The truth is, and I told her this, that in some cases, the gulf between 14 and 40 is pretty narrow.
Go listen to some good music: "Don't Panic" from the album Parachutes by Coldplay. So what happened? Seven years happened. Though 10 is maybe more significant. And 30 is back where it began. Mostly I'm ok with where I ended up.