I know I'm getting older rapidly, but I wasn't prepared for my kids to get older so quickly. I know it's true, because at least one of them is growing taller and meaner at the same time. In the last month, my oldest daughter has questioned my need to call other men "Man" and "Buddy," and she's also called me uncreative. Just recently, she referred to me as the "crusty old man" during a family game of Blokus.

Crusty old man? Excuse me! I may have hair leaving my head for more unfortunate areas like my ears, and the closest my stomach gets to a washboard is at an antique store, but I'm not crusty, and there are a lot of people a lot older than me. You won't find me toting a metal detector and wearing black socks with sandals on the beach just yet.

Teenagers are famous for this kind of hurtful speech, but the problem is that my oldest daughter is not a teenager. She's ten. So I ask, "What in the world do I have to look forward to when she turns 13?" My only hope is she shifts her attitude towards her mom. Besides, aren't mothers and their teenage daughters supposed to fight it out while dear ol' dad drifts in and out of consciousness on the couch watching televised golf?

I mean, my kid is supposed to be Daddy's little girl from the time she was in diapers until the time that I am. I should expect to be drawing such fire when I tell her her skirt's too short, her boyfriend is a bum, and her curfew is at 10 o'clock, but not now when her bedtime is 8 o'clock.

Why is my parental glow wearing off so soon? I'm supposed to shine until I take her keys away or ground her on a Friday night. I'm supposed to be the only man in her life until Jimmy with the crackly voice and bad acne calls her for a date, and I forget to give her the message. Or even better, I tell Jimmy she's helping several policemen and their bloodhounds locate the last guy she dated. I'm not supposed to be catching grief today when her social calendar

consists of American Girl

movies and science camp. That's supposed to come later when the hormones turn her mind into mush, and she goes temporarily insane for four years of high school.

The scary part of this newfound attitude is that she has come by it naturally. Her experience with pop culture influence is limited to an occasional grumpy Miss Piggy and a bad commercial during a football game that I haven't muted completely. School isn't the problem because she's on summer vacation. So what is it?

Luckily these previews into the teen years are just that…previews. My oldest daughter is very respectful 99 percent of the time. These things just pop out of her mouth without warning. So I figure she's either practicing to test her future boundaries, or she doesn't realize what she's saying. Either way, I'm not enjoying these little glimpses into our future.