Fleeting Coolness

My sixteen year old cousin left this morning. She was staying with me. Before she arrived, I had lots of ideas - I was going to be the cool older cousin. She's an only child so we've adopted each other as the sister we never had. We were going to stay up late, painting our toe nails, eating ice cream and cookies and gossiping. I had told her that within reason, whatever she wanted to do was fair game.

This was before she arrived.

They arrived on Monday straight from England. My aunt and cousin were clearly tired by the time that dinner was finished. My uncle and aunt left for their hotel. I turned and looked at my cousin. She was pale and she was just functioning.

"Right," I said, "bed."

I bundled her into bed in no time flat. I felt like my mother.

She's a fussy eater. I knew this. I had forgotten that she didn't like milk. She announced that she would have water for breakfast with her toast. My brain freaked out. She's young and she's growing. She needed milk. I pulled open the fridge. I had yogurt.

"Right," I said, "do you like yogurt?" I got the daily calcium dose into her. I felt old.

We got ready to meet her parents at the hotel. She pulled out a pair of walking sandals and announced she hadn't worn them yet. I looked at her.

"You've never worn them?" Right," I said, " we're taking band-aids."

Through-out the day, I doled out the band-aids. I wondered when my purse had turned into the carry-the-kitchen-sink-bag that mother's carry.

She bought a pair of shoes. They were skater shoes. They were black with a checkerboard design on the side and pink detailing. She's been looking for ages and ages and ages for just the right pair. I thought they were hideous.

The day flew by and by the time, we arrived back at the apartment, it was time to once again bundle her into bed. In the cool cousin department, I was not doing a good job. I

As we went back to the hotel this morning, I looked at her new skater shoes. "They're growing on me."

"I'm glad," she replied. "I like them so I don't really care what you think."

I smiled.

"When I was your age, I wore green mascara."

She wrinkled her nose, "Ugh."

"I liked it" I took a breath,

we looked at each other and in unison yelled, "and I don't care what you think."

She makes me proud. She's my cool baby cousin.

One day she'll be as uncool as I am. She too will wonder how it happened.