We email our nieces advice and tell them “when I was your age …” and then Tweet links to Bay City Roller fan pages that (shockingly) still exist. Then find youtube videos and sing along to “Saturday Night” so many times, even the cat looks up embarrassed, horrified, and starts looking on Craigslist for a cooler place to live.

It was so much fun to reminisce, but I was quite horrified when I realized, upon reflection, that OMG! this is exactly what my mother and grandmother used to do. Except they didn’t say OMG! Or have access to Twitter or youtube.

I’m a little young to be reminiscing about anything … I think. Perhaps not. It begins when you have kids, and only gets worse as they go from riding a tricycle to struggling with training wheels, eating crayons to marveling at how many colors there are in a giant Crayola box. Facebook – and seeing high school pals’ mugs and thoughts on a regular basis -- doesn’t help keep the past tucked in. Memories and reminders are always a click away.

The fact that I don’t have a daughter, and can’t relate to most of what my son is into, made me latch on to my Texas niece as soon as I had her email address. I have three nieces in town too, but the two little ones I can’t advise yet. The other in town, however, is old enough to hear my chatter. She didn’t answer my email but I bet I could lure her with a trip to the mall.

The mall. A lot has changed since I was 13 and my only means of communication with my friends was snail mail and the family phone. Young teenage girls might be more worldly, amazingly tech-advanced and seem so damn smart. But they still love the mall. It remains, even 32 years later, a common talking point, a respected source of love and amazement, desires and hope.

Of course the mall frustrates me now; it’s a pain to park and so big, I need my GPS to find one store or another. But it’s still a wondrous place filled with all kinds of people, make-up, snacks and shoes. You can get a water massage, a mani-pedi, even ride a carousel. What’s not to love?

My Texas niece is very kind, and not only emailed me back, but thanked me twice for my helpful advice on boys. She’s a bookworm, like I was, and also like me, good in school and conscientious, and in love with the Jonas Brothers the way I adored the Bay City Rollers.

She might not want me reminiscing all over her. But I will anyway. A little. I’ve realized, perhaps for the first time, that being an aunt to a teenage girl is probably better than being a mother to one. I can have the good parts without the headaches.

And she’s so very sweet, she’ll answer my emails if I don’t bombard her. For now anyway. Until she gets older and leaves me behind in the cyber-dust. By then the younger ones will be old enough … I’ve got it made.