9-10-11-12 years old. I can't remember anymore, but my old blog says that I was about to be 12 or something like that.
Oodles, my mom, was throwing out various plans and suggestions. She was being my cheery, ever-enthusiastic mom. I was being what a growing pre-teen was supposed to be.
She suggested: how about a party with loot bags?
"What do you think I am mom? Twelve is old enough to drive in the Philippines." I thought in my head.
I said something to the effect of a resounding no probably mixed with some slight derision with the idea that my response would completely snuff out that idea.
It worked.
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