Abby and I have been hangin’ out for nearly a decade now. Practically every night for going on a third of our lives. It’s the best. There’s just something about having chosen a person, and that choice just getting nicer and nicer and nicer. Every night’s a slumber party in August, as I’ve said.

It feels absolutely natural and easy. In fact, travelling and doing things that aren’t cooking dinner and watching movies and going on walks and talking nonsense feels altogether more challenging.

Now, that might be something like codependency, and if it is, well then baby, I don’t want to be right...or something like that. 

It’s the addition of Roby that I find well and truly fascinating. She’s automatically just part of the club, part of the hang, a natural and beautiful extension of this party that’s been going on for years. It’s not as though she’s a nepo-baby that’s been given a free ride, no, she’s earned it. 

Seriously, I’m just more and more perplexed by people who complain about their kids or suggest that it’s hard. It’s not hard. It might be the only thing worth doing. 

I just hope she continues to like hangin’ out with us as much as we enjoy hangin’ out with her.