The other day Sam pulled down one of Hubby’s old photo albums. It contained pictures from when we were in college (we went to school together but didn’t start dating until months after graduation . . .), and we all sat together and looked at it. Sam asked who the people were, and I think he didn’t actually recognize his Dad in the very early pictures (he had big glasses then:). He did recognize mommy though, in the pictures Hubby had in there of me with a previous boyfriend. Um, weird.

Anyway, while we were looking through the book, Sam asked his Dad if he missed his friends. I got a little worried, because I think the both of us do miss college quite a bit and can be a little nostalgic over it in a sad kind of way. Hubby said that yes, he did miss his friends very much.

And Sam’s response was exactly what I was thinking to myself: “But we are your friends too, right?”

“Yes, you are Sam; you are my best friends.”

And it’s true. My family - we are each other’s best friends. I learn so much from each of them. I have a different relationship with each of them, my husband and my two sons. We each fulfill different needs for each other, and we love each other differently. But I like to think of us as a family of best friends. That works for me.

In the time it took me to finish this post, Sam told me Robby was “attacking him,” Robby tried to hit me while I was changing his diaper, Hubby happened to “forget” that there was still cat puke on the rug that needed to be cleaned up, Sam refused to stop turning the music up way too loud, I snapped at Sam for not keeping his toy broom on the floor, Robby grabbed Sam’s hair and wouldn’t let go . . . twice, etc. But we’re totally BFF over here. Totally:)