I have been blessed with some of the best friends in the entire world. Seriously–the entire world. Three of them, I met on the first day of high school in 1987. The first? In homeroom. The next two, in honors English second period. They, actually, were already friends from smarty-pants advanced language and math classes through the public school system. Me? I was a newbie (a word not yet invented, I don’t think) from a parochial school. Regardless, we became friends that fall and have managed to stay friends ever since. For awhile, in college, I would call them and say, “Do you realized that we’ve known each other for 5 years? 6 years? 7 years?” Such a long time. Then, at 28, it was, “Hey! I’ve known you for half my life!”
August always makes me think about that–since that’s the month I met them. And this August? I realize that our friendship is now old enough to drink. So when two of them came to my daughter’s birthday party this weekend (with their own children), we did. Margaritas with good friends–does it get better than that?