This is where I got my first lessons on what it means to be a friend. When my little brother came along, however, I got my first lesson on why it’s a bad idea to put makeup and nail polish on a little boy and parade him in front of your parent’s close friends.
It’s been said that if you use one hand to count the number of friends you have, you are a lucky person. If you go by the number of friends I have on Facebook, I should have won the lottery twice by now.
My friends come in all shapes and sizes. Some are short, some tall, some thin and some... thinner. But all are irreplaceable. When I’m having a bad day, I can call on any of these brilliant, thin, beautiful women and instantly feel better. Whether it’s the friend who makes me laugh, the one who makes me think or the one who reminds me of what happened the last time I tried to color my hair at home, they are all great.
If I die before my children marry, I would like my friends to make sure my husband wears the appropriate attire for the ceremony. I’ll rest easier knowing Jay won’t be wearing whatever he can find in our closet. On that same note, if my husband decides to date after the appropriate grieving time has passed – 20-30 years if he’s lucky – my friends will see to it this “woman” weighs more than I did. If she doesn’t, they will make sure she will.
My closest friends and I are different on many levels, but we’re similar where it counts. They are the ones who tell me I look thin, even though I have cookie crumbs on my chin, and my pants are too tight. At the same time, these are also the friends who will tell me there’s spinach in my teeth before I talk to a group of people. And just because one of them doesn’t like to cry, she doesn’t mind when I do. They have their quirks, but that’s what I love. If you hang with people who are just a touch crazier than you, oh what colorful world it is.
Years ago, I thought a friend was someone who had to think like me or act like me. I soon realized a true friend helps you see things in an unconventional way. Friendship means different things to different people. But no matter your politics, background or annual income, when it comes to being a friend, all you really need is a dry shoulder, an open mind and a sense of humor.Comments? You can email Angel Kane at [email protected] Becky Andrews and Kane are the brains behind Telling Tales, a weekly column in The Democrat.