I am not your friend

This afternoon, Lola Gray and I had a little girl time. Raymond took Fletcher to a birthday party while Lo and I ran a few errands. I was having a rough day, for reasons I won’t go into now, and it was really nice to be out with my best girl just getting things done. It was pouring down rain, and we were holding hand walking though a parking lot and jumping in puddles. I looked down at Lola Gray and said “Lola, I am so glad you are my friend.” 

And she looked up at me with a startled expression on her face and said “I am not your friend.”

Huh? Why not?

“I’m not your friend,” she repeated “I’m your daughter.”

“I know that silly girl, but we can be friends too, right? We have so much fun together!”

“No, Mommy. I am NOT your friend.”

Well, ok. I guess.

I kind of expected to have that conversation in reverse when she is a teenager, but I’ve gotta say it caught me off guard! I love that little girl so much. I hope, in time, she will decide it is ok for me to be her mother and her friend.

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