Juggling seems like an enjoyable pastime for the handy. Swordplay has its points.

Combine these two activities by juggling swords, though, and you're just asking for trouble.

We juggled swords recently. Specifically, we kept two of our preteen granddaughters for a week. About all I can say about the experience is: Girls!

Cousins Madison, 12, and Emily, 11, are typical "tweenage" girls whose obsessions divagate from boys to cell phones to awful music to eating.

Especially eating. They put our bottomless-pit grandsons to shame. My wife wore a path to the grocery all week, not to mention trips to fast-food and ice cream joints.

They're good girls, though, and fun to be around when they're not eating. (I nearly lost a hand once when I got between them and the refrigerator.)

I asked Madison, who will enter the seventh grade soon, what she likes to do at school.

"I'm into drama," she said.

"Say, that's great," I said, impressed. "I work with a guy who acts and directs and works backstage at a community theater. He really enjoys it."

Silence.

"What?" I finally asked.

"No, Papa, I mean drama . You know, drama mamas," she sort-of explained.

I found out she meant gossiping, cat-fighting over boys and other things mean old girls do in middle school.

"You know, boys are easy," I said with a sigh. "They just punch each other and go on their way."

Madison is a great swimmer, so we urged her to try out for her school's swim team. (If they renamed it the Drama Club, she'd make the varsity team.)

A rising sixth-grader, Emily has always been an all-round athlete: soccer, softball, basketball, biking, cheerleading and horseback riding. Her current sport is called Changing My Name.

What could possibly be better, we asked, than "Emily" -- the most popular girls' name? Kylar, of course. Sigh.

My wife tells me that after I left the pool one night, the girls skinny-dipped, which they had long wanted to do. (We promised not to let their parents find out.)

Though racing to grow up, the girls still cling to childhood. Emily sleeps with Blankie, a ragged shred of well-laundered material that resembles a fuzzy jellyfish. Madison keeps a bear named Boogie, which she got several years ago after an eye injury.

Each evening, they wanted me to make smoothies for them -- my main reason for living at my house during Tween Week.

"But the ice is still in chunks," I said one night as they crowded me at the blender. (I kept my hands away from their teeth.)

"That's OK," they said. "We like our smoothies chunky."

Sigh.

At day's end, they took their marathon showers. After the county called to ask whether we were violating the water restrictions, I challenged Madison and Emily to shower in five minutes.

By week's end, each was actually able to shower, shampoo and condition with a minute to spare. These girls made me proud!

I hope our experiences help remind you of the girls in your life. And, of course, I hope you all survive.

Reach Glynn Moore at (706) 823-3419 or glynn.moore@augustachronicle.com.