Monday, May 14th, 2012
Several months ago a blonde haired, blue eyed little boy named Henry showed up at Jack’s daycare. He and Jack are now best friends; I think it’s safe to assume.
By default, my wife and I have become friends with Henry’s parents; because, after all, we have to set up “play dates” for our sons. Henry and his family came over to our house for breakfast two months ago and it went well for all six of us.
So we decided to repeat. This past Saturday, we all met at The Pfunky Griddle (where we are every single Saturday anyway at 8:30).
As I sat across from Jack and Henry, I had this revelation that somehow makes sense in my head:
Henry is the Swedish version of Jack; Jack is the Norwegian version of Henry.
But (ir)regardless, they definitely favor in appearance and behavior.
As we left The Pfunky Griddle, we watched our sons run up and down the entry ramp in a delirious state of mind that conveyed the message, “I’m so going to fall asleep right after this!”
It’s interesting to see them react to each other outside of daycare; as if daycare is the Avatar world but in the real word they can’t actually see each other.
I guess it’s like when we were kids and saw our school teacher shopping at Walmart and were confused by the fact that she actually had a family and life outside of being a teacher at school.
I like watching them play together.
One day when I was picking up Jack from daycare I caught them both taking turns climbing to the top of a 2 foot tall padded play structure, pretending it was a mountain.
Each time one of them reached “the mountaintop,” they would throw their hands up in the air as if to say “Whew! I’m exhausted!”
Another time they were outside taking turns going down a 2 foot tall slide. Henry was taking his time getting comfortable for his descent down the slide and Jack, who was behind him, saw me; knowing that it was time to go.
Jack started pushing Henry in a “hurry up, man!” fashion to get one more turn in before I loaded him up in the Honda Element and made him listen to Matt Kearney’s newest CD for the 83rd time.
Jack and Henry deserve their own Eighties sitcom. Like the baby version of Bosom Buddies or Perfect Strangers.
I’d watch it.
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Wednesday, July 27th, 2011
We have been told more than a few times that we look like brother and sister. Nope, we’re best friends. Oh yeah, and we happen to be married, too.
(Pictured right: St. Patrick’s Day 2007- We had been dating for about a month.)
Having spent my teenage years during The Nineties, the music I will always truly love the most is from the grunge and alternative era. In fact, I proudly continue to buy the new albums of those same bands that are still around like Counting Crows, Live, Matchbox Twenty (Rob Thomas), and Third Eye Blind. And that is why I continue to remain a huge fan of Weezer. For many, if Weezer was ever relevant in any way, it was in 1995 with their hit “Buddy Holly.”
But as long as each year Weezer releases yet another self-titled or bizarrely named new album, I will surely be digging it. Yesterday in the car I was listening to their song “My Best Friend,” which never really stood out to me before. But as I listened to the lyrics, I thought of my wife:
“You are such a blessing and I won’t be messing with the one thing that brings light to all of my darkness. You’re my best friend and I love you… I’m here right beside you. I will never leave you.”
And it hit me: My wife really is my best friend!
But it’s not simply a romanticized idea. In fact, the thing that actually helps me to truly grasp the concept of my wife being my best friend is by removing any romantic aspects from our relationship. It’s a struggle, but if for a moment, I view my wife and myself not as a woman and man, but instead just two souls, I can catch a glimpse of us how we are best friends in addition to being married and in love.
Of course, both of us do have our close, same-gendered friends that we talk to. And that’s very important. But as a married couple, we refuse to let much time go by if we sense that the other is “in a moment” where they need some empathy or direction. As I always say, we strongly value communication in our marriage.
Ultimately, being best friends in a marriage often means transcending the romantic elements of the relationship. Sure, it still includes and depends on those necessary romantic elements, but it’s so much more than being in love.
I guess for me, the only way I could have ever been married was to know that I had found and was marrying my best friend. And that’s exactly what happened to me.
October 5th, 2006: we met for the first time at a taping of CMT Crossroads
February 5th, 2007: our first date at a John Mayer concert
January 14th, 2008: I proposed
July 5th, 2008: our wedding day
November 16th, 2010: our son was born
All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:
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best friend, best friends, Counting Crows, marriage, marrying your best friend, Matchbox Twenty, Nashville, Rob Thomas, Third Eye Blind, Weezer | Categories:
Home Life, Nostalgia, People, Story Bucket, Storytelling