Our parish priest high fives all the kids coming out of Mass every Sunday. It’s a nice tradition. My thirteen year old daughter received her high five coming out of Mass yesterday just as she’s done since she was old enough to high five. As we walked to the parking lot she turned to me and asked, “I’m thirteen and I’m taller than Father. Isn’t it getting a little awkward for me to be getting a high five?”
Hmmm, I said because that’s what I say when I have no idea what to say. It presents, I believe, an illusion that I’m going to ponder something for a while.
My eleven year old suggested that after the next Mass she simply shake our priest’s hand. My thirteen year old thought about that for a moment and finally concluded, “That would actually be more awkward.”
Hmmm, I said.
We walked on and she added, “I’m thirteen. I guess everything I do is awkward.”
Hmmmm, I said. But I meant it this time.
