Friends are important because they give you back your shoes when they fall off while you are swinging. And for lots of other reasons, too.

Sometimes, the universe reminds me that the kids do hear me. The best indicator of this in a positive way is when one says to the other a gem of wisdom. Something so deeply understood and simply stated can only mean they are listening. Can I hope they are thinking, too? I mean, really thinking? Critical skills hat on analyzing what the world is shoving at them and bouncing it off their gut and reason?

The five year old recently had a follow-up appointment with the specialist she sees. I got some affirmation. They use this cream, about the consistency of cheap washroom soap with the slime factor of left-sitting-out-for-three-days ranch dressing, to numb their arms before they go digging for a blood vein. The cream goes on, and then they place a big, clear bandage on top. It's smaller than a deck of cards, but barely. Both arms are treated, just in case. Then, the girls have to wear it for 30 minutes and try not to ooze. When the 30 minutes of wearing this wonderful (and I am actually very grateful for it) solution elapses, they remove the bandage the size of the five year old's fist from both arms and then wipe them clean.

That's when the real fun begins. Despite being numbed, the five year old is not short on memory. She remembers this next bit hurts. It hurts A LOT. In an effort to calm her down, I say, "It's all numb now. It won't hurt you at all." She looks at me with a perturbed scowl and says, "Momma, how do you know? Have you had this done?" Good point; she is thinking.

By the way, it didn't hurt. She did just fine.