Doodaddy

I didn’t live up to my expectations of myself as a friend today.

Park Buddy had an emotional, trying experience this morning. I won’t say exactly what it was — while I’m way out there in writing about my own problems, it feels unfair to write about hers, anonymous though we be. I’ll just say that it was really hard, it involved family, and there’s no real way to “fix” it — and “fixing it,” of course, is every man’s dream.

I’m really good at being that friend you can talk to about your problems. Have you ever known That Guy — probably it was in your twenties, maybe in the college dorm, or he was a family friend? That Guy would listen without judging or giving crappy advice. You’d run into That Guy in the laundromat consoling a neighbor who’d just broken up with her boyfriend. He’d also be the one you’d call when you went to the E.R. with a kidney infection, or to go along with you when you had to put your cat to sleep. You’d take That Guy to lunch to tell him you’re pregnant, even before you tell your husband, and you’d confess to him how scared you are. So, have you known That Guy? I’m That Guy, and I’ve done all those things.

So I think can be counted on to listen and support and comfort. Today, though, I sucked at it. I mean, I did some of the right things: I asked leading questions, kept her talking, and, most importantly, just shut up and listened. But we didn’t have enough time or energy to devote to the converstaion. We let ourselves be constantly distracted by the kids and the park, “parenting” so fully that we didn’t get much time for “friending.”

I didn’t hug her.

I have no idea why I couldn’t be a better friend today. I was tired, moderately preoccupied by a couple of Boo’s boo-boos, and I have a mountain of chores (and what else is new?) — but with me, friends have always come first. In an ideal world, I think, we’d wait for the spouses to come home and take over parenting duties, then go out for a coffee to finish our conversation.

But we won’t, obviously, for the same reason we didn’t hug goodbye. Because to do so would be to tread ungently into a grey area that would worry our spouses and possibly (when they’re older), our children. There is absolutely no romantic interest between myself and this woman, not even a spark. (And you know me, I’d tell you if there were.) We’re just good friends. Good friends who can’t have unfettered conversations after 6 p.m. without the aid of a little sneaky text-messaging.

It’s hard to hug via text-message, though.