A morning exchange with Jedi, after a brief discussion about friends and family and how one shouldn’t be mutually exclusive from the other:
“Is Abby your friend?”, I asked as he’s standing in front of me, still dressed in his camouflage pajamas, his hair a mess of sweat from jumping on the bed.
“She’s my sister.”
“Yes, she is, but she can also be your friend.” I could see him thinking it over, so I pressed on. “Am I your friend?”
“You’re my best friend.” At which point I wanted to fold him up and hide him in my pocket forever and ever, sweat and all. Instead, I pulled him in close and whispered, “you’re my best friend, too.”
“Is Daddy your friend?”, I continued.
He shook his head yes.
“Is Abby your friend?”, I tried once more.
He shook his head yes again.
Then last, but not least, “Is Buzz your friend?”.
“No. He’s just my brother.”
Ah, brothers. Can’t you just feel the love?
Such honesty 🙂
(and the sweetness… I hope our kids always remember we can be friends in addition to family. A great message)
.-= Corinne´s latest blog post: Waldo’s Pond =-.
I feel it. 🙂
I stumbled across your blog a week or so ago, and this entry has inspired me to delurk and comment (I’m so bad at leaving comments!)
This was just so sweet to read. I remember my father telling my sister and I, whenever we’d fight as kids, that we need to act more like friends. Your post brought that all back!
.-= semicrunchymama´s latest blog post: Why semi-crunchy? =-.
@semicrunchymama, Thank you. Both for the very nice things you said and for delurking.