S and I share a great friendship, but this isn't a post about that. It's a post about our daughter's, Big A and H, and the friendship that they share.
Big A is 9, going on 43. She'd skip the fun, partying, learn-from-your-mistakes years because that's not what she's made of. H is 10, going on 44. She's going on 44 because she's a tad older than Big A and logically, that is how it would work out. Because they are logic people. Which is why I worry about how S and I being the type of people that we are will affect them long term.
The instant that Big A and H met, they loved each other. After playing with H for an hour, Big A said, "Mom, can you believe that I met a new best friend"? Big A and H aren't the type to cozy up to new people and make friends with wild abandon. They are the type to make a mental list calculating a person's faults and deducing if it's worth their effort in the long term to proceed with a friendship.
It amazes me that in this world of so many, they found a match to their souls at such a young age. For FUN, they took Big A's sea shell collection (over 50 shells) and made up scientific sounding names for each shell, along with definitions and the correct pronunciation. When I was 9, for fun I was tying my sister's shoelaces together or trying to teach the dog to jump through a hula-hoop.
Part of me is terrified that they have one another, mostly because I'm sure that I'm not on my toes enough to catch onto something that they might be planning. They are without a doubt smart enough to pull of major acts of whatever they want, and I think they are on the cusp of realizing this. They asked me to come out to the garage the other day to see something they found. It was the oil pit. They removed boards from the cement floor to find the pit under them.
"What is this"? They asked.
"THIS is very, very dangerous and you must never, ever go near it again. What would possess you two to pull boards off of a floor? Go play in the sun".
"You could put things in there". I looked around nervously for an escape route. They are faster than me.
"Unless you two want to be at the bottom of this thing screaming for help, you will NEVER remove one of these boards again. Understood"?
A quick glance between the two came before the "Yes".
(Note to self: find someone to nail boards into concrete and never let my cell phone leave my pocket.)
One day while S and I were running around, I said, "What are Crack and Whack doing"? We started laughing, and the nick-names stuck. "Probably fixing the plumbing in the basement" was the response. The thing is, she was only half kidding. Are you people aware of the things you can check out of a library?
There are the emails between each other. (Yes, I read them. A good mother does, right?) They love one another so purely and simply and innocently, it breaks my heart. If they go a couple of days without seeing each other, they become sullen and petulant and aren't sure how to explain the ache inside or to verbalize the anxiousness, but they don't have to, I understand.
I, too, have loved to the point of breaking.
Saturday night, Crack and Whack were showering and then went to camp out on the sofa to watch the Discovery Channel's special on psychic detectives. I went into the bathroom after them and noted that they had used nearly an entire bottle of soap, and that there was pink shaving gel everywhere. I asked S if H was shaving her legs yet and pointed to the evidence. "I don't know, good question". To which she marched out of the room and down the stairs, despite the fact that she was in the middle of getting her pajamas on.
She came back a couple of minutes later to assess the damage.
"What did you do"? I asked
"I told H to let me see her leg".
"What did they do"?
"They asked why and finally I just grabbed her leg. They aren't shaved".
"Why did they have out the shave gel"?
"I didn't get that far. They wanted to know what the deal was with my underwear".
(Note to self: When attempting to level with Crack and Whack, don't wear thongs.)
"How do you think life looks from that couch for them"? I asked S. "Seriously, their science experimenting, fault tabulating, detail-oriented minds must go crazy with us for moms". ("Um, S, it's Saturday, doesn't H have a soccer game"?)
While I was cleaning the kitchen, I overheard them discussing their nicknames.
"Which one of us do you think is Crack"?
They ran down and outlined the logic, then decided that it didn't matter, because they were really the same, and if they asked their moms, they probably wouldn't be able to answer it, either.
Yes, you are the same. And I'm so glad that at such a young age, you know this and you understand that love comes in all shapes and sizes and endures through boys and frogs and sisters and moms that appear crazy and don't appreciate honest comments.
I'm so glad that you know about the type of friendship that will endure a lifetime and that you are the type of people that you are. Because I'd imagine that at some point when you are picking out nursing homes, S and I are going to appreciate the detail-oriented thing.