Last night, at about 9 p.m., long after I thought she’d gone to sleep, Janie comes tiptoeing into our room.
“Mommy, I’m afraid I won’t make any friends.”
And, just like that, I regret moving.
Because, for every good thing that comes with this move (and there are a lot of good things), not one of them matters when I hear her say that.
Please, oh please, whoever is listening out there, have her make a friend today.
One friend. Just one friend.