I 

Love

You

More

Than 

Chocolate

 

 

 

Many years ago, in a moment of total insanity, I took my just-beginning -to-talk-all-the-time-toddler with me to buy a new bathing suit. He reclined in the umbrella stroller, fascinated by his new Spiderman sneakers. I gained twenty, thirty, forty pounds during my pregnancy. I heard rumors that I could lose up to two thirds of that weight during labor. Labor lasted twenty-six hours.

I lost three pounds. 

There, in the mirrored dressing room, in sacred silence, I struggled into something stretchy, while parts of me struggled to get out. A little voice floated out of the dressing room, wafting over the top of the stalls and down the corridor. The voice of my young son, lilting, "Oh Mommy, you're exploding !" Muffled giggles, snorts and hee haws echoed back. We left. Quickly. 

And thus it came to be.

My lifelong definition of friend is...the ONLY person I would ever let in the dressing room, while trying on a bathing suit.

We are much too casual with the term "friend".

We all have acquaintances. 

Neighbors. 

Associates

Buddies.

Classmates.

Cohorts.

An acquaintance is one who says call me if you want help.

A friend is the one who shows up when you need it. 

Friends complement each other like:

Ketchup and Mustard

Salt and Pepper

Burgers and Fries

Ice Cream and Cake

Cheese and Crackers

Foodie Bookends...can't have one without the other. 

If I reached into my pocket and found one solitary M&M, I would share it with my friend. And my friend, well aware of the sorry state of the inside of my pockets...would eat it anyway. 

 

To my friend, I would say...

-Year after year I show you exactly who I am-

-year after year you love me anyway-

-year after year you show me exactly who you are-

-and I love you anyway-

-between see and saw-

We balance each other...

Sweetness and Light. 

 

 

You and Me. Tee and Hee.

Friends.