This one story will always make me laugh, and feel fuzzy inside, like the way this individual always does every time I speak to her or see her in person.
Disney Store – this is the tall tale about my preschool childhood neighbor who stuck it out with me through all of these years.
I remember bits and pieces of this specific encounter, but Disney Store swears by this. Just ask her the next time you see her or if you ever meet her (which you probably already have at this point, or you’ve heard stories/seen pickles* of her all over my personal social accounts.
We met at the Red Field Mall (sure, let’s reference it as that), when we were both at the age of three/four. Our mothers were familiar with each other since our older siblings spent their time together in elementary school and up, and I mean, she did live only two blocks away from me. We locked eyes in the Disney Store, and she will always say (and tbh it’s probably true) that I was so shy out of my mind that when our mothers introduced us, I was hiding and holding onto the dear life of the woman who birthed me. I actually believe this whole heartedly, since I was extremely shy growing up. If you met baby B.T. Benedict vs. B.T.B now in separate worlds, you’d probably be very confused.
Anyways, fast forward to where Disney Store and I are at now. You can ask anyone, and I will say this. You are one of the most beautiful souls inside and out. From the way you walk with such fierceness and confidence, to the way you can carry a story and light up the whole room with your laughter. You are so great, that I wish you saw yourself the way I do.
Our relationship has had its ups and downs, but that’s the epitome of life. We were not as close as we were transitioning from elementary school to middle school, but with time (as with everything), our friendship has budded like a flower, in the way you have with your beauty.
Thank you for being you, Disney Store. You give me a different perspective on life, with your constant pep talks and reassurance of your belief in me.
*I call “pictures”, “pickles.” Get it right, get it tight. Ha ha.
K bye. Moving on to the next individual.