H and K, let me tell you about your special relationship.

See, we just got back from a weekend in Ruidoso.

K, you did not sleep well.

You did not really sleep at all.

The nights we were gone were rough on mom as a result.

But I told you that to tell you this.

H and K, K and H, you two already have a special relationship that I will never understand.

I will never know what it is to have a sibling.

But you two already have something beautiful.

One night, when K was not sleeping, we finally corralled H away from playing with cousins and grandparents.

Feet were washed, teeth were brushed, and pajamas were put on.

All the while, K screamed with discontent at being in our mountain cabin. Or possibly, she had an ear ache.

Either way, K was inconsolable.

We finally laid you two down in bed beside each other.

You both turned and looked at each other.

While you looked each other over, H, you patted K’s head, rubbed her head, played with her fingers, and gently touched her nose.

This went on for about three minutes as you gently grunted and squeaked at each other.

Then you both rolled on your backs, and promptly fell asleep.

Y’all are beautiful.

I know your relationship will ebb and flow as the years go by, but I hope you shake out as best friends.

Because you always have been.