Dave and I laughed about this. It's not so different than he and I are: happy to see people that we know, unsure about who our friends are, hoping that the people we know are our friends or that they might want to be our friends, and most likely, appearing very geeky to the people that we know and scaring them off from actually being our friends.
But it was still very cute. Then last night, we had dinner at church so we could see Conor's kinder-choir sing (speaking of cute!). Conor spent the first part of the dinner running around the entire dining hall pointing to friends and shouting "I know you! You're my friend."
On the one hand, that's sweet. It shows how comfortable he is at this church and that he's starting to get to know other kids. And on the other hand, visions of junior high are dancing in my head. And it's Not. Good.
Neither Dave nor I were the popular kids in high school and judging by the pictures we've shown each other from those days, it's clear why we didn't have a lot of dates. I don't know, maybe acknowledging the other kids and how he likes them (or how he thinks they like him, I'm not sure) is the path to popularity that Dave and I missed. I'm definitely not saying that we want Conor to be a popular kid. The one thing Dave and I do agree about high school is that it's better to geek and not peak.
But still. I'm not sure about all this running around to the different tables and saying "You're my friend!" I think that it shows how unselfconscious our son is and how utterly assured Conor is about being accepted for *exactly* how he is. That's amazing! How lucky to feel that way in your life. I just don't want him to lose that feeling. Or, more honestly, I know that feeling is bound to go away some time. And it's could be a painful experience for him. And it's a little bit sad to know that about life.
It just hits too close to home. You're my friend. Aren't you?