seeking a friend for a walk to the park.


If you ask Atticus who his best friend is, he will smirk and say, “Joe Biden.” Way back during the 2012 campaign, we taught him that Joe Biden is President Obama’s best friend, and I guess we’re a little hazy on the concept of “best friend” because now he thinks that Joe Biden is everyone’s best friend. The good news is that I think Joe Biden would like it that way. (Fingerguns!)

At school, they say he plays best with people who have the same interests he does–namely pouring dirt onto trucks. He told us the other day that he doesn’t like a certain little girl in his class because she doesn’t play with trucks. I am not totally sure what to make of that, so I mildly commented that everyone has different interests and left it at that.

What surprised me the most about the report from school is that at home he plays better with friends who are different. When they both want to play trucks or act like turtles or be pirates, then someone has the better toy or someone is doing it wrong or someone doesn’t want to share the pirate sword that he just bought with a gift card from his Nana because it is too special. Mostly what works is running around outside and giggling.


Atticus is especially lucky to have a friend his age just two houses away. They play together most days, but sharing is hard, especially in the afternoons. The park is better. When the weather is nice, we trek down to the swingset and wander over to the lake. There’s usually a meltdown on the way home. I’m told that’s how it goes with three-year-olds, so we try to take it in stride.

When I say Atticus is lucky, I mean that all of us are. We feel fortunate to have people to walk with us in this stage of life. I think I will look back on these days and remember the slant of the afternoon sun as we steadily pushed our strollers in the direction of the park.


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