My daughter was invited to a play date to Jana’s last week.

As we were driving there my daughter said, “Jana’s mom is pretty cool.”

OH SHIT.

Here we go.

This is the moment.

This is the moment where my daughter figures out that I am old; that I am not hip. That I do not have a great body; that I do not braid hair. That I do not look super cool in my aviator sunglasses; that I do not shower enough. That I am overweight; that our van is a piece of shit. That our back yard is lame. That her iPod is actually an mp3 player. That our family vacations suck.

That. That. That.

“Is she…?” I replied.

“Yeah,” she said excitedly. “She can watch a whole bunch of kids at the same time!”

I beamed.

BEAMED.

And then I giggled. She is totally right. Jana’s mom is pretty cool. She has 4 kids under the age of 10 and when she hosts play dates, each kid gets to invite a friend. They bake; they go horse back riding, they swim. My daughter always comes home with the most wonderful memories and lots of good stories.

Sure, Jana’s mom is super pretty, young and hip. But, that isn’t what matters to my daughter.

And that’s pretty damn cool.