There’s something about old friends. Something safe and warm and incredibly comfortable. They’re like my tracky daks after a day of corporate wear. Do I need to explain? Didn’t think so.
I have a lot of friends. And I love making new friends, meeting new people and seeing things from different perspectives. Through my children I have met and made groups of friends I would probably have never met B.K. (Before Kids). Sometimes it doesn’t work, but other times, it does, and it’s great. So my point is that I have a lot of friends and I know that through my life, I’ll make even more friends.
But nothing comes close to my old friends. The friends who were there before kids. Before my husband. Before I had a job. Before my Mum and I started getting along. They know things about me that I don’t even know. They remember things I don’t remember. They’ve been with me through bad hair, bad skin, bad clothes, bad boys and bad, bad make-up. And they still love me. And I, them.