THAT friend

I ran into THAT friend the other day.

You know the one. We all have at least one.

It's that friend that if you run into an aisle at Walmart where she is, you quickly backtrack and hoof it out of there, hoping she didn't see you.

I just don't like her. I'm not even sure where it began. I can remember a time when things were pleasant between us. But somewhere along the line, things got heated.

Probably around the time I saw her flirting with my husband. She doesn't know I saw, but I did. She's a man eater, for sure.

And what kills me... Bruce can't see her true nature. He thinks she's nice. And he never ceases to notice whenever she's around.

I'm not jealous. But I'm pretty sure she thinks she's better than me. She's younger, more polished.

I'm not sure why the Lord has this friend in my life. I think he wants to use her for good. To straighten some things out in me.

But I don't like it.

To be honest, even calling her a "friend" is a farce. I admit I've talked about her before. Behind her back. The word "hate" has even come up.

This particular meeting went well. We met privately, because it was necessary. No witnesses.

Things started out in a mess. For me. I'm not sure she even has a clue of the way I truly feel about her.

I know that's terrible to admit. Nearly everyone around knows how much I dislike her, but she's clueless. It's catty on my part to not just openly admit to her face that I don't care for her one bit.

We came to an understanding, I think. But I'm still certain I won't seek her out any more in the days to come than I have in the months past.

But maybe, just maybe, God can use this recent meeting as a stepping stone so I can get beyond my distaste for this friend.

Do you want to know who she is? Chances are good, I may have already gossiped to you about her, so this will be no great surprise to some of you.

Her name is Sunny.

Short for Sunbeam. (What can I say about her name? Her parents are hippies.)



No. I can't help myself. I still can't stand Sunny. And I'll probably always talk about her behind her back.

I am eagerly awaiting in the mail the new heating element for our dryer! My dryer is a true friend.

I love Ken.

Short for Kenmore. (What can I say? His parents are yuppies.)

The great thing about Ken is that he'll never flirt with my husband. And Bruce never knows he's around. Unless Ken goes off at night.

Ken has a temper.