There is a gaggle of tween girls sleeping over tonight. They are congregating in my daughter’s bedroom for now. There is laughter, giggling and for some reason thumping coming from upstairs. The walls are shaking with their jokes and games.

Soon they will spill out in search of food and the Wii, taking over the living room. There will be prolonged discussions of which DVD’s to watch, how to set up the sleeping bags and which of the boys of their acquaintance is less gross than the others.

Even though it is too early for us to go to sleep, my husband is ensconced (hiding) in our bedroom. Too much pre-estrogen floating around the house for him. I will join him later after the girls have changed in to those flannel pants all the kids love to sleep in and settled down as much as they will settle down for the night. After giving my standard speech (no boys, booze or buzz), I will head into exile for the night to our bedroom.

There is no hope the girls will not stay up too late, raid the kitchen, talk and giggle until the sun rises.

As these girls gaggle around, one foot still in childhood, a toe in adulthood, there is something: energy, emotion, something emitting from this group.

I think it is joy.