Hanging Out With Steve

This one is rated G, because it is super super appropriate, like pasteurized OJ.

Steve and I first met in the hospital where I was born, although, I don’t remember that time of my life very well. Our conversation was probably something like:



Or something like that. From what my parents say, Steve and I hung out a whole lot when I was a child, seeing each other a few times a day. These were good times.

By the time I turned six or seven, I recall hating Steve. My mom would always make me hang out with him, but whenever he came over, I’d just sit there with my eyes open, refusing to cooperate.

“HANG OUT WITH STEVE!” screamed my mother, desperate for a break from my antics.

“NO!” I yelled back, standing up in defiance.

Strangely, I don’t think this phased Steve.

My mother eventually stopped caring whether Steve and I hung out, and all throughout middle school and high school, I rarely saw him. Sometimes when I was really sick, he’d come over, and I’d feel better, but that was about it. It probably would have been a good friendship to develop more, but I just didn’t have time for Steve. I brushed him off to watch Netflix, read, or hang out with other friends. High school would have been far more enjoyable if I would have just hung out with Steve, but hindsight’s 20/20.

Unbelievably, I met Steve again at college. I think it was the third week, and I was absolutely exhausted, staying up too late writing debate cases, and waking up far too early to debate them. I walked into my room, and Steve was right there, like nothing had changed since my early childhood.

“Steve?” I asked, incredulously.

“Clark,” said Steve, “I’ve always been here for you.”

Steve and I have since become the best of friends, which will no doubt last throughout college. Yes, I imagine when we both marry and have kids, we’ll see each other far less, but I’m betting we’ll be able to carve out some time Sunday afternoons to see each other. Someday, when we’re old and retired, Steve and I will probably spend every possible moment together. Steve is just so great, and I’m glad he took me back.


Now reread this, but replace “Hanging out with Steve” with “Taking a nap,” and it’s my life story.

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