GRAMMY: Barbara, you’ve gotta find that boy a friend.
ME: Julius has friends.
GRAMMY: The kind he can hang out with, or just kids he knows from school?
ME: Well, they’re from school, but he’s had play dates with several of them.
GRAMMY: Play dates?
ME: I arrange it with the other Moms, or they arrange it with me.
GRAMMY: Lord, you don’t even let him pick his own friends?
ME: He’s six, Grammy. I can’t have him running off with kids I don’t know. Or whose parents I don’t know. And why are you even going on about this?
GRAMMY: I’ll tell you why. Because he’s out in the yard talking to the squirrels. Squirrels, Barbara. And you know what’s really sad? They’re chittering away at each other, ignoring him.
ME: Come on, Grammy. That’s utter nonsense.
GRAMMY: Call it what you want, but I’m telling you, Barbara, that boy needs a real friend. (sigh) Good thing he can’t understand squirrel. I’ll bet you a dollar to a stale donut they’re making fun of him.
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