The It Girl


Well, she sure showed me.

Earlier this spring, as I waited with daughter the younger for the school bell, she decided it was time to play tag. What she really wanted was for me to chase her, but as daughter the elder knows, I have quite a reach. So, when Nora ran up to me and tagged me (in the stomach, naturally), shouting "you're it!", I only had to reach out behind her and touch her, saying "you're it!", while she tried to run away. The "no touchbacks" rule doesn't work so well when there's only two people playing.

This is actually a pretty decent game of tag in its own right. I stand there, not moving from my spot, while the kids circle in close, trying for the best time to lunge in and touch me. I usually win.

But this wasn't want Nora wanted. After a few times of fruitlessly touching me and getting tagged in return, she stepped back, frowning, trying to think out some way to beat the system.

Then she grinned, pointed at me, said "you're it!", and ran off.

And I realized, then and there, that she had tagged me remotely.

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