Well, start with that, but then imagine when the excitement becomes too much that they have no choice but to flee the porches and meet in the middle of the yard to squeal and poke each others' faces a while.
Such was the beginning of the friendship of Samara and Rosie.
Rosie Van Vlake, the youngest of the brood. A real pistol. An adventurer. A milk drinker. Our neighbor.
Wrapped up in this little silly bean is 75% of my silly bean's joy! (Candy and going to church comprise the other 25%.)
For the past year, whenever Samara was not actually playing with Rosie, she was pretending to call her, asking where she was, rocking her baby doll named Rosie, and planning the games for when they were reunited!
Whenever we returned from a trip, Samara would shoot across the yard and be knocking on Rosie's door before I even had a chance to exit the car.
The "little girls," as they were referred to by the older kids on the property, were always doing something. Collecting and throwing rocks, dive bombing onto a giant bouncy ball and tumbling onto the ground. Dumping all the sand out of the box, or taking every one of Samara's baby dolls outside (which was forbidden).
Rarely, was there a quiet moment, though I did capture this one. As you can see, one is a bride and one is a tennis player.
They went through a phase in the middle of the year during their terrible 2-ness where they fought over everything. "Mine. Mine. Mine!" could be heard from all corners of the land. Snatching and scratching reigned.
As Samara neared 3 though, this total selfishness waned (a bit), and they have spent the summer decked out in various princess dresses, butterfly wings, and jeweled heels, alternating between being Gabby Douglas and Cinderella.
Sometimes, they just had to ditch the dresses for diapers. One would never want her princess dress to get all wet with the hose!
When I told Samara that Rosie was going to move to a new house, she said, "I'm going to live in a new house too!" I've tried to explain in a variety of ways, but I don't think there are actually words to make a 3-year-old understand this type of thing. At some point, she'll realize that Rosie never comes over to play anymore.
That makes me sad.
Rosie was the deal sealer for us moving to Clover. What a great opportunity for Samara to learn about being a friend and learn she has. The other night, Samara said to me matter-of-factly, "I love Rosie."
So do we. We'll miss you, Rosie!
Lesson Learned: Even at the youngest of ages, people are able to understand friendship!
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