My daughter is madly attached to her best friend. Madly attached.
The other day her mother offered me her social security number so I can file her on my taxes. That’s how often she is over. She has dinner with us several nights a week, lunch nearly every day. She runs errands with us, goes to the lake with us. The two girls play for hours uninterrupted and are inclusive of Ainsley’s three-year-old brother, Zack.
But the fighting. Frequently, they disagree about something, someone gets her feelings hurt and so the BFF stomps home.
BFF generally returns within the hour. But occasionally BFF doesn’t come back for a day or two. Or does the worst thing ever – goes to play with someone else.
And my daughter cries. Boy, does she cry.
She cries if her friend is mad. She cries if her friend goes home. She cries if her friend plays with someone else. She cries if we go on an errand and her friend doesn’t get to come. She cries if she gets to go to camp and her BFF doesn’t get invited.
Don’t. I. Understand? Her. Whole. Life. Is. Over.
She moved away this week while Ainsley was at camp.
Yes, Honey. I do understand. I was a girl too and my BFFs are still way important to me (Bookclub Friday!).
I was always the one who moved away because my daddy was in the Air Force. How my heart would ache for the soul sisters I lost along the way.
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