I have heard tales of parent – child relationships so strong that they refer to each other as best friends. I can only surmise that this works the same way 18th century courting worked. After being told you were betrothed and had no choice but to be together for life, you figured you’d make the best of it, find out each other’s similarities and give it a good old fashioned try. You would drink a lot and fan yourself. In fits of anger, they would throw things at you….mostly breakable things you love. You’d make tea sandwiches. They would eat them, except for the crust. Back then, divorce was unheard of. And since parenthood is also a life sentence, I think it’s a good idea to take a deep breath and settle in. Fortunately, unlike marriage, you do all the diapering in the beginning and get to the dating and drinking together in the later years. This seems like a fair deal. The sweet after the constantly urinated on in public sour.
In some ways, my kids are my best friends. Mostly because baby and toddler hood are a battlefield that we have all fought on together. This makes us soldiers in the same platoon. We’re bros. No one knows you like your platoon during war-time. We haven’t shared cigarettes or pin-up pictures, but, I have carried them over my shoulder while running from an angry bee and when we have explosions of the diaper variety, I am the medic. SO yeah, we’re tight.
Best friends have secret languages. I speak all four of my children’s garbled languages fluently. I know that EOGHRTOUERFSOHGT SOTHEOUHTTT!!!! means, “Hey Mom. I want a sandwich.” and I know that ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR means, “Head’s up. I’m tired. You’d better postpone that grocery store trip until after nap time.” Our secret handshakes change daily, but, we have those too. Their current favorite is pull mom’s pants down and laugh which I know means, “The four of us will be ganging up on you for the rest of your life. Get used to it!” I then respond with my secret handshake of tripping over my pants and clenching my teeth in half pain/half anger which means, “I know. I’m ready for you. Next time I’m wearing pants 3 sizes too small! SUCKERS!”
Best friends are often well matched. They may love to read, write or go to theatre. My children and I are well matched as well. We are generally cranky, covered in mud and none of us know how to spell. Similarities. Check.
Best friends fight and then make up. Does this even require an example? No, it doesn’t.
Best friends borrow each other’s clothes. They wear my underwear on their heads. Close enough.
Best friends tell each other secrets. I know ALL of their secrets. I plan on never telling them…until the truly perfect moment of horrifying embarrassment. That’s what best friends do.
Best friends know that no matter what, they have each other’s backs. Mean chick at Day Camp who refused to do Twin Day with my daughter, Aggressive Troll on the slide that pushed my toddler into a cardboard box and ANYone who breaks their hearts, this (best) Bud’s for you. And, by Bud, I mean my evil, death stare while menacingly peeling an orange.
Ok, I admit it – we are besties. Now to find a BFF necklace that splits into 5 pieces.