Over the weekend, I schlepped my eldest daughter and several of her friends out into the wintry wilds of Alaska to sled. They were giddy with excitement at spending the day with each other—away from school and their parents and civilization—and I was highly entertained by their actions. Not that I've ever been around a bunch of 13– and 14-year-old boys, but I'm willing to bet that they behave much differently than their female counterparts.
My daughter and her friends are, for lack of a better phrase, downright lovey-dovey. They hold hands as they dance up the hill together. They tell each other how pretty the other is and shout that they love each other and shriek about how much fun they are having.
They happily and without shame pile on top of each other to see how many of them can stay on a toboggan; when they crash, they roll around together laughing hysterically, then pause to lay back and stare at the sky, remarking on the beauty and stillness of the evening air.
This window of innocence and friendship is about to close. These girls will enter high school next year, and priorities will change. But for now, I will cherish their sweet, funny, undying devotion to each other.
Dinner last night: ravioli