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    Thursday, November 20, 2008

    Friends Who Don't Count

    The other day we had a get-together with some close friends. One of my girlfriends was remembering a recent move that wasn’t exactly a cakewalk. When the other girlfriend’s husband said, “Wait a minute. I was there to help,” she responded, “Yeah, but you don’t count.”

    We all laughed because we knew exactly what she meant. These are the friends, who—barring life-threatening illness—will be at your door at 8:00 AM on moving day, rain or shine. You can call them in the middle of the night, and they will drive across town in their pajamas to sit with your kids while you take your spouse to the ER. They know your kids’ birthdays, your shoe size, and your opinion on thong underwear.

    They don’t count as friends because they are more than that. They’ve moved on to the obligation level reserved for family, but the difference is, they chose to. Well, maybe the husbands didn’t exactly choose. They just have to go where their wives do. It’s like, biblical, or something.

    I don’t know why, but Kory and I are blessed with more than our share of friends who don’t count. Yes, that means there are a lot of people, who, whether they want to or not, know my stance on stringy underwear. We might as well make it common knowledge to the voting public. I’m opposed.

    I’d just like to take this moment to thank our dear friends who don’t count for going above and beyond the call of friendship. For cleaning messes no one should even have to see, like diaper blow-outs, scrambled egg vomit, and my oven. For hauling our massive wardrobes up and down too many sets of stairs to count. For sitting with us in the hospital when Monkey came four weeks early.

    Everyone should be so blessed. Yikes! Where did this sentimentality come from? I’m going soft in my older years. And I know I’m going to get teased about this. That’s the only drawback to having friends who don’t count, they tend to remember things you’d rather they forget. Like my twenty-first birthday, when I put a napkin on my head and channeled Little Red Riding Hood. Yeah, I’m never gonna live that one down.


    Donita K. Paul said...

    The things a mother does not know about her child! Channeling?

    Donita K. Paul said...

    The things a mother does not know about her child! Channeling?

    Linda B said...

    I'm with you on the thongs!

    Anonymous said...

    Yes, indeed, where did all that sentimentality come from? It almost made me *SNIFF* want to watch "Christmas Shoes" while, *SNIFF* listening to "Butterfly Kisses". NOT! :)

    But, I am with you on the stringy undies. We spend most of our life pulling our undies out of our bottom, why would we purposely want to stick it back in there?

    Jaime said...

    You know you are one of those friends who don't count. I don't think I even have to put it in writing, but there it is. Even if you do like the cold weather. You know those comments you never thought you would say: "Don't lick my leg" was just said in my house! Love ya!