It was the weekend of the BFF.
My girlfriend and I treated the Little Girl and her sister from another mother to a Camden Riversharks game Saturday night and a Sunday afternoon at Longwood Gardens, with a giggly sleepover in between.
My daughter gets into “Daddy Who?”- mode so quickly when the BFF is on the scene. Although she did take the time to explain the chronology of the friendship:
“We were in pre-school and kept talking and talking. Then one day when we were older I said to her, ‘We should be BFFs,’ and then we were.”
Watching my little girl interact with her best friend showed new colors. She put a hand on the girl to steady her when she nearly tripped. She shared any food she got 50-50. She spoke patiently and calmly, never whining or angry.
I liked seeing her in buddy mode, a good human fond and supportive of a peer.
At one point, the Little Girl tried explaining to the BFF that she’d learned that sometimes, children can have two mommies or two daddies.
“Sometimes women marry other women,” my daughter said.
“Why would they do that?” the BFF asked.
“I don’t know, but maybe we could get married some day.”
A beat. Then the BFF asked: “Why?”
“You might want to wait a bit before deciding on that,” I told my daughter sagely.
“Sure,” she said. “Even if we don’t get married, we can still be BFFs.”
Then the girls smiled and began singing a Selena Gomez song together.
I hate that song. It never sounded so good, though.