Young Old Friends

You know that magical feeling you get when you get together with really old, I mean really young, I mean really old young friends?

It's pretty great.

Denise and I met in 1st grade. We were six. That's 44 years ago, peeps.

Barbara came into the picture years later. When we were like 10. We've been friends a mere 40 years with her.

Newbie.

The three of us -- and our darlin' Mistah -- had one of those days that can only be described one way.

Magical.

And don't even think it ended there, right there on our front porch.

Oh no. The three of us started talking about going to Ocean Beach, because Denise hadn't swum in, like, a couple of hours, so we bellowed, in harmony, "Schleckah! Take us to the Beach!"

And so he did.

And then we got to watch Denise do her Denise Thing.

Some people swim with the fishies. Denise swims with the Ledgie.

 Why yes! There were whitecaps in the Long Island Sound that day.

But did that stop our intrepid hero?

No. No, it did not.

Denise joined the Mary Ellen . . .

. . . and headed towards Plum Island . . .

. . . while Barbara and I worried on shore.

Barbara and I were determined not to lose sight of her, but well, a cup blew away, a phone rang, distractions abounded, and although we could not see Denise anymore, we were sure she was fine.

Absolutely fine.

Oh wait, there she is. See her out there??

 Way out by Plum Island? Let's zoom in . . .

. . . there she is!

Denise finally turned around not because she was tired but because she knew we were worried.

We weren't really, but we kind of were.

And we were so happy to see her swim in to shore.

The water, apparently, was warm, but the air was cold.

And the moment we had our girl back with us, on land, we were overjoyed.

Because we were all back together again, just as we should be . . .

. . . me and my young old friends.