I Can Tell That We Are Gonna Be Friends

I have long chronicled this relationship.

Emma and I joke that we want these kids to get married (in the far far far far far distant future) just so we can have the world’s best photo montage/slide show/blue-ray extravaganza at their wedding.  It could be like a feature length film.

They’ve been friends.

They’ve been enemies.

They’ve been in between.

Shoot, they have even shared underwear!

So it was with bated breath (Not really –  I don’t even know what that phrase actually means.  Someone else care to look that up for me?  Thanks.)  that we met together this July Fourth to see how the two two-year-olds would manage a whole week in one another’s company.

Maybe it was their increased maturity with their advanced age, but this year I think they hit their stride.

It was really all ups, no downs.

They shared a picnic blanket to watch the bigger kids do the slip and slide when they both thought that the slip and slide action was a little too intense for their tastes right now.

I already told you about the good natured ice cream cone eating contest – the two participants hardly knew they were competing I think.  As soon as Beckett won, Piper laid down her cone and quit altogether.

Beckett and Piper shared food at the table and sat together whenever they could.  In fact – it was hysterical to observe.  Like a needy, little, mostly incapable, struggling married couple. Piper offered to cut Beck’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a plastic knife, which really means to mangle it to death, forcing Beckett to eat peanut butter sandwich mush.   And while she was taking care of that, Beck was there to meet her needs as well.  He hand-fed Piper bites of string cheese while she cut/mangled his bread.  It was hilarious.

Then there was the team play – or team ganging up.  They discovered the mischevious powers of two preschoolers versus one Oma.  I watched them  (and didn’t stop them, I must confess) as they plunked their two cute heads together and one whispered covertly, “Want to pour water on Oma?”  And the other responded, “Yeah – let’s do it.”  And then they did.  They chased poor, innocent, kind Oma and poured water on her toes.  And then they laughed uproariously as if they had never been witness to a funnier event.  Because they derived such immense pleasure from this occupation they gathered forces together again, took turns pouring water back and forth in one another’s water bottles to get even amounts and then went in for round two.  They still laughed as if there was nothing funnier that ever existed.  (And maybe there hasn’t been for them.  You know – they are too young to watch Modern Family yet.)  They probably would have kept up this game all night but eventually Oma stopped giggling and they lost interest.

But then they resumed another favorite game.  An old classic brought out again from their earlier years  – growling.  Just growling at one another.  While running in circles and chasing one another and giggling between fits of growling.  And growling between fits of giggling.

Pure joy.

Really.  We don’t care if these two get married or not.  (Anyway, Jon says he’s not sure about his son marrying a Keigley girl, but I think we should be more concerned perhaps about our daughter marrying a Joersz boy.)

Besides, it won’t require a marriage for us to break out a slide show – or a blue ray extravaganza or whatever piece of technology is the coolest for viewing our bazillion digital shots of these two cuties.

They can’t escape being friends – so we’ve got that covered at least.

Joint graduation parties maybe?