Best friends are family,
and to me, my best friend is my sister.
From the time we met at the age of 4,
we would fight over who was "mom" when we played house.
That maternal instinct of wanting to put the balloon under our shirt
and dress my baby brother like a girl to push around in the stroller (sorry Al).
Luckily we were next door neighbors (1 mile apart...boondock style),
so daily play dates were a must.
Disagreements, of course.
Yet knowing each other so well that with one look across the room,
we spoke with our eyes and schemed a plan sneak away to the play house (our get-away).
Inseparable, we were.
Finally the time has come where the cute basketball baby bump
was no longer a balloon, but the little mister I met over the holidays.
Ours.
Well, she and her husband, but...
A best friend is a sister, so he's mine too (right??),
but more than just a mile away
(about 300 miles to be exact).
Can't he stay the same until I see him again?
And if there is anyone who is downright country,
it's this child's father, from hunting, to fishing, and a country twang in his words.
So of course we did his photos outdoors,
complete with overalls, huntin' gear, and 'ol green JD.
Love to all...
and to "like" our page on Facebook.