Breakfast time in the Grimes house had settled into an almost old-world routine - almost. The younger girls, twelve-year-old DeDe and ten-year-old Andi, had their hair braided at the table while fourteen year-old RJ rattled on about his school sports team. Michonne always did DeDe's hair because she was too impatient to let Rick do it; Andi only allowed Rick to do hers because she considered her mother's faster braiding technique torture, with all the histrionics that went along with it. Judy, at sixteen, had grown out of wearing French braids, or so she had recently declared, much to Michonne's chagrin. Now she always came down just as it was time to leave, skipping their morning rituals.

If you didn't pay attention to the actual words at the breakfast table these days, you would swear they were talking about high school football.

"You comin' to practice today?" asked RJ, finishing off his eggs. "I'm going for the triple-trap."

Rick looked up from the plaits of Andi's hair between his fingers. "They're letting you shoot a triple?"

"Coach says if I nail it, I could be a starter this year."

"Already?" Michonne asked, stirring her tea.

"She says we have a chance to beat Hilltop this year."

Rick huffed. "Hilltop." He looked at Michonne, as if she had anything to do with it. "How the hell did Hilltop take the championship for two years now?"

Michonne shrugged. "They have some good players."

DeDe reached across the table to grab a piece of toast. " And they have a marching band."

"We could have a band," Rick said, finishing off Andi's hair. He made a face. "Bands are impractical."

"Mom says some things are just nice and we should be happy to have nice things," DeDe said, as if she was reciting a poem.

Rick glanced at his wife. He wanted to give her an exasperated look, but he couldn't suppress a smile.

"Anyway," RJ said, "Carl said if I nail triple, he'll take me to the Perimeter."

Rick and Michonne both froze and glared at him.

"He what ?" Michonne asked.

Rick shook his head. "That's not even on the table at this point -"

"You're only fourteen!"

RJ looked back and forth between his parents as they protested. "When Carl was fourteen -"

"When Carl was fourteen, it was a different world, RJ," Rick said, pointing his fork at him. "Now, you're good, but you're still some years away from patrolling The Perimeter." He paused. "I don't know why you'd want that job anyway. I don't know why Carl likes it."

"He's doing something important," RJ said, "It's like the most important thing."

"The PG keeps us safe," Andi interjected.

"They do, baby," Michonne said in her calmest voice, a signal to Rick to reel in the Do-you-know-how-hard-we-worked-so-you-don't-have-to-deal-with-them speech that was itching to come out. She glanced at her watch and got up with a start.

"Where's Judy? You're going to be late again!"

Judith's footsteps came barrelling down the stairs. "I'm coming! God!"

When she emerged, it was clear she'd spent the morning in front of a mirror. She'd cut her bangs so they fell over her eyes and flecked them with glitter. Her cheeks were artificially pink, an exaggerated rosiness that glazed her lips and eyelids as well. Teenagers in Alexandria didn't rebel against the world by embracing sullen darkness, black lipstick and skulls. Their rebellion was blindingly bright, even if their attitudes didn't always reflect it.

Rick turned and looked at her. "What's this?"

Judith shrugged. "It's just makeup."

"Well, it's too much makeup," he said, getting up from the table and approaching her. "Go wash it off."

Michonne sighed. "Rick -"

"She looks like a deranged clown."

"She looks cute! "

Judith bristled. " Mom! "

"She's a teenager, Rick." Michonne handed Judith an apple. "And she doesn't have time to wash it off. It's fine."

Judith gave her father a barely subtle I won smirk and she bounced out the door as her younger siblings scrambled to follow her.

"Three o'clock, Dad," RJ said as he headed out. "Triple-trap!"

Rick nodded. "I'll be there." As the door shut, he gave Michonne a look.

She shrugged. "What?"

"She looks ridiculous is what."

"Well, it's what the kids are doing."

"You know Deanna's going to want to wear makeup like that, too."

"She probably will."

"And you're OK with that."

"I'm not saying we should let DeDe wear makeup yet, but Judy's a teenager."

He shook his head.

She looked at him pointedly. "A normal teenager."

Rick drew back slightly as he started to see what Michonne saw when she looked at their glittery, neon pink daughter.

"Remember when she was a baby? Remember when we had no place to live, no food, no safety?"

He softened his stance and nodded lightly.

"Did you ever in a million years think that Judith would ever be a normal teenager, going to high school and fighting with you about makeup?"

Rick paused, a smile creeping across his face.

"No," he said, finally. "Not in a million years."