Not Abby

My oldest daughter recently compared her little sister to France.  

They both have exquisite taste and rotten dispositions.

Our 14 year old is our baby and her experience in Hawaii

is much different than her parents.

She loves it here, but is frustrated with the realities of living 

at close quarters with popsicle and momsicle (her terms).  She misses having a house full of siblings and friends, and especially 
pines for her big bro Taghe who departed for his LDS mission
on Dec 18th.  When she emails him, there are large tears rolling down 
her sweet face.
 That's how we know that France has a soul.

Then there was last Friday.  
When the three of us went across the street to meet 
the neighbors.

Hello neighbor.
We adore our neighbors, we can hear their various calls and trumpeting 
above the street noise throughout the day.
Scott and I loved walking through the Honolulu Zoo, shaded and exotic.  
Not Abby: when her ancient mother wanted to read a plaque 
identifying a nearby tree -

 she would comment "Really? Again?" 
Her father stayed a bit too long at the African Hornbill enclosure.

And who wouldn't?  These guys are cra-cra. 

They carry dead things around in their beaks for hours just to show off.

Not Abby:  As he lingered she impatiently kept reminding him how 

hot she was, how bored she was, and how stupid this was.

The only thing that caught her attention was this:

And being Abby that meant that there was potential danger everywhere. 

We should leave.  Immediately.

What? And miss out on seeing what the Safe Zone looks like?

Would it be like the Splash Zone at Sea World?

If Abby saw that last remark she would tell me how I'm trying to be funny

but it's just embarrassing. 

 And I would tell her for the 5th time today that I don't care

what other people think and I never get embarrassed.

I'm so glad I don't have to be 14 again. And I really love France.