Matt has lots of funny little oddities in his speech. They have varied histories to them, and I’ve known him so long (not quite 24 years) that I know the origin of most. When he says “waglet” for wallet, I know he got that from when he and his friend Jay worked together at the Campus Inn Hotel in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and had long, boring hours to fill. And when he says “mirror” in an exaggerated French accent, I know that what will follow is “Ra-zor. Mir-ror. Family, John! Family!” a line from the movie Greystoke, the Legend of Tarzan. (So far as I know, my mother and I are the only two other people on the planet who get that reference and laugh.)
Then there’s the inevitable and endless references to Pulp Fiction, Trainspotting, and, like most males of a certain age, Caddyshack. One oddity I can’t quite place is “as friends.” Whenever Matt suggests that the two of us do something together—like have dinner, or go see a movie, or even sit on the couch to read or watch a show—he will inevitably end the sentence with “as friends.”
“Hey Goldstein. Let’s go see a movie together. As friends. Or, “G, come hear and sit down and let’s watch 30 Rock together. As friends.”
It’s almost as though he’s joking that after so many years we still like each other.
All of this is background reading to a cute little thing Simon did yesterday. We had been downstairs playing with his cars; well, inventorying them more like, when I asked him if he’d like some orange sherbet. Would he ever!
“Yes!” He nearly screamed. And he made a bee-line for the steps. And as he was scurrying up them he looked up at me with the sweetest face and said,
“Mommy, let’s go upstairs and eat ice cream together. As friends.“
And then he added, just in case I was missing the point:
“Mommy, you my best friend.”
As he is mine.