They grow up so fast, but do they ever shut up?

Take a look across the breakfast table right now, or before going to work maybe peek into the bedroom at daddy’s little girl, still sleeping, so cute and darling, and darn it, why do they have to grow up?

I think 3 or 4 years old was my favorite age, the little darling just sitting there and listening to what was said, no argument, no wisecrack retorts. Father knew best, and that’s just the wonderful way it was.

But then they grow up, and while it’s a nice thing, I guess, that they still want to hang out with Dad and his credit cards in Las Vegas, there’s no such thing as the little darling just sitting there and listening.

Now they want to tell you what they think.

“I think Phil Jackson is a Kobe hater,” said the daughter.

I had mentioned Jackson’s name because I had just read his conflicting comments in the newspaper after Kobe had taken 74 shots in two games -- making him sound like a man who wasn’t quite sure if it was a good or bad thing.

Jackson reminds me of the coach who watches one of his players throw up a bomb from long range, screaming, “No, no, no -- oh, great shot.”

“I don’t think Phil likes Kobe at all,” the daughter said, and I don’t recall anyone asking her what she thought. “I think you’re a Kobe hater too.”

I consider myself a Kobe lover -- especially when he’s trying to score. Off the court, well, that’s a different thing.

But I’ve been a supporter of the ball hog from day one, knowing how blessed we are to be witnesses to such individual greatness. Kwame Brown and Smush Parker only get in the way, and if the lack of teamwork -- given this team -- means the Lakers don’t always win, I don’t care. I’m watching sports to be entertained, and Kobe, the gunner, does just that.

Around here, of course, there’s no middle ground. You either accept his brilliance without reservation, or you get e-mail addressed to “Kobe Hater.”

“I’m a hater,” the daughter said, and I don’t recall anyone asking. “I don’t like the way he plays, don’t like his attitude, don’t like anything about him.”

I know she considered him a “ball hog” and a “big baby,” because back during the time of the Sunday father/daughter radio gabfest, Kobe came on and she called him just that.

But as I recall, she finished that show singing his praises, impressed with Kobe’s ability to roll with the name-calling, and his willingness to laugh at his own expense.

“I don’t see that personality enough, the one I experienced on that Sunday -- that unguarded, charismatic personality,” she said. “I know he has it. I saw it back when he played that last game with Michael Jordan. I was there and he was playfully swatting Jordan and having a great old time. I want to see him have fun instead of scowling at everyone.

“He’s capable of that. I just don’t know why he doesn’t do it. Maybe he’s just a miserable person,” the daughter added, and I’ll provide her e-mail address if you’d like. “I know this, it’s so much more fun when a likable person scores 65.”

I reminded her that she does not have a husband and if she continues to bash Kobe, “you might never find one around here.”

“I don’t think I could marry someone who loved Kobe,” she said -- like she can afford to be picky at her age. “I could move to Miami. I’d be hot in Miami. Or Cleveland. They would love me in Cleveland.”

She’s been dating Andrew. After this, I figure he’ll dump her.

“He doesn’t like Kobe either,” she said, and I’ll provide Andrew’s e-mail address if you’d like. “He’s a Shaq man. My opinion of Kobe is capable of changing, but not his.”

She’s already changed her opinion once -- much like Jackson, who called Kobe uncoachable only to embrace him and now sound conflicted. As wishy-washy as Jackson has been, it appears the daughter and Phil would be great together.

“I think I might get on his nerves,” she said. “I’d want to know why he’s meditating and I don’t think you’re supposed to talk when someone is meditating. I also don’t like the smell of incense.”

Is there anyone she does like?

“I’ve been to the Clippers’ locker room as well as the Lakers’ and I love Elton Brand, Sam Cassell, Mike Dunleavy and Corey Maggette,” she said. “Those guys are fun. The Lakers just glare at you. Kobe walked right past me without acknowledging my existence.”

Maybe he has a problem with women, I suggested.

“I’m not saying anything,” she said. “I know where to draw the line, but I think he has been different since Colorado. That’s when he became the guarded Kobe.

“I just want him to be a fun personality again. Take Cassell. He says some asinine things like ‘my guys,’ which gets my blood boiling, but you know where it’s coming from -- it’s that personality and it’s just Sam. Kobe could be like that too.

“But it’s so rehearsed with him, like that time he was on the ‘Best Damn Sports Show Period.’ Everybody just plays up to him, asking, ‘What’s your pet peeve?’ and he says, ‘Dog poop.’ Whipty-do.”

“Shouldn’t it be, ‘Whipty-do-do?’ ” I said, a father’s job of educating his children a lifelong project.

“I just want to see Kobe laugh,” she said. “The other day he talked about his daughter not caring about him scoring 65 and just wanting to watch the Care Bears. There needs to be more of that.

“That’s why so many people forgave Shaq. He was just a big kid and you couldn’t help but smile every time he started to talk. He didn’t pretend to be anything that he wasn’t. OK, so he thought he was Superman....”

I’ve run out of space here, but that didn’t stop her from talking more.

Funny how they all start out being daddy’s little girl, only to grow up and take after their mother.