The ten best things about best friends: A.K.A. How to survive middle school

My daughter starts middle school next year. I'm not going to lie, saying those words makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit. My middle school years brought stereotypical grief. The mix of braces, freckles, a spiral perm, first chair spot in band and desire to be smart combined with my lack of athletic ability made me quite an ugly duckling. And like every ugly duckling, what I wanted more than anything else was to be a cheerleader, or the female middle school equivalent of a swan.