Last year, my principal told me I was an “old soul.” I asked what that meant, and he said I seemed wise beyond my years. He said it was a compliment. That he liked the way I always knew when someone needed help with fractions. Or the way I emptied the pencil sharpener without being asked. That’s the way I am at home, too. Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes I feel like the most grown-up one in the house. Which is why it seemed like my parents should have known they could talk to me about grown-up stuff. And why it seemed like they should tell me the truth about moving.
