girlboxer1970

Everyone. And, you can never have enough.

The best part about friendship is, you get to pick who becomes, and stays, your friend.

Last night my family and I went to a cook-out at friends of mine from high school.  Trisha had bought fun toys for the kids, enjoyed by the adults as well.  The most fun we all had was with the B’Loons.  A $1 item consisting of straws and thick goo that you blow into abstract shapes, and if you’re lucky, you pinch them off as you remove the straw and have a pretty bubble.  Blowing these bubbles was much more difficult than you would imagine.  Just the right amount of air pressure to the glob of hopefully, non-toxic goo, and you get a beautiful orb of fun.  They’re sturdy when you blow them up correctly.  I had the brilliant idea of throwing them into the pool and later, into the fire.  The fire would shoot the bubble way into the sky and delight everyone, not just the kids.  Yes, we are easily entertained.

Trisha and David cook some mean ribs and potato soup.  Good food makes for great friends. 🙂  Eventually, all the lawn chairs in their yard were taken by well-fed friends, who eased back and relaxed.  The conversations were non-stop around the fire pit, as we toasted marshmallows for S’mores.  Comic relief fell to the kids.  When new people arrived and heard me calling out to Tesla, the name didn’t slip by these 80’s hair band junkies.  They asked Tesla if she was in the band.

“Your name is Tesla?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re in the band, huh?”

“I’m not in a band.”

“You must be in the band if your name is Tesla,” they insisted.

“There is no band named Tesla,” she informed them.

I wasn’t right there to hear this conversation, but shortly after the exchange, Tesla called me to the side for a “private talk,” her words, not mine.

“Mom, those boys are saying I’m in a band.”  (The “boys” were adults.)

I started to laugh and she gave me a deep frown, eyebrows knit and all.  “Well, there is a band named Tesla,” I told her.

She gave me the hairy-eyeball look, trying to determine if I was joking.  “Where are they?” she asked.

“If the band is still playing, I imagine they are performing somewhere in the world right now.”  I know this is a generic answer, but one a seven-year-old would accept.

“But, I’m not in the band,” she stated.

“No, you’re to young to be in that band, honey.  They’re all old now.”

“Well tell those boys I’m not in the band.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them.  And by the way, you’re not named after the band.  You’re named after the scientist, Tesla.”  I told her, matter-of-fact.

“Good,” she responded, clearly relieved not to be named after a rock band, and ran off to play in the pool.

We all got a good laugh out of it.  The “boys” continued to joke with her about “being in the band.”

I feel lucky to have so many great friends.  Ones I can depend on in the good times, and the bad.  Friends that don’t judge.  Friends that care.

In the long run, sometimes all you have to fall back on are those friends.

Making memories,

~P.