There are 16,593,242 teenage girls living in America. One of them lives in my house. That would be my daughter, Mimi, an extraordinary 17-year old who, shall we say, has been quite an education for me.
If you have a teenage daughter, you know what I mean. If you’ve been a teenage daughter, you know what I mean. If you have a friend with a teenage daughter (and spent hours chanting “It’s just a phase she’s going through, it too shall pass”) you know what I mean. Everyone else — oh ye of no teenagers in your life — please give me the benefit of the doubt for a moment while I shed some major light on the little understood emerging science of how to communicate to a teenage girl.
