If I told Park Buddy that I grind up baby hamsters for breakfast and eat them with my dandelion wine, she’d tell me that was completely understandable.
It’s nice having a friend who supports you no matter what.
At the playground a couple of months ago, a 20-month old girl stubbed her toe and tripped over my foot while I was looking the other way. I felt a little bad about not having headed off the boo-boo.
Park Buddy, however, told me this: “She wouldn’t have cried if her dad had put her in shoes.”
She’s just completely, infallibly supportive, in a way I’m not sure that I’ve supported anyone, ever. Frustrated by a clutterbug wife? Ostracized by the SAHD club? Park Buddy’s the person you want on your side, the person to bring you back to reality and good humor.
I know I was worried last week about keeping her as a friend now that Buddy Boy is in school, and maybe even if we move away.
I changed my mind: I’m not worried anymore. Park Buddy and I: we might not always live nearby, but as friends, we’re not going anywhere.