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November 8, 2010
For a seven-year-old, you sure know how to flirt. You alternate covert peeks with flashy glances, occasionally hold eye contact for a beat or two, and as you look back toward your friends, smile a smile that is at once shy and knowing. I'm impressed.

Come back in 30 years and we'll talk.

One thing, though: The sports talk has gotta stop. Not just the content but the volume of your voice. No doubt you learned this from your dad, which is why your mom, when she glances at you here at the back of the bus, looks so exasperated.