I’ve noticed an unusual pattern amongst random friends over the years. Usually, the ones I’ve only known for a short time and we’re still in the “are these people real friends or is there some ulterior motive I’m missing” phase. 

They’re the ones who say things like, “you’re blood,” and “you guys are family”. 

I’ve come to realize it’s the equivalent of saying “I love you,” on the second date. 

They are not referring to the fact that they will always be there for you, like some faithful sibling you can always depend on, but they are referring to the fact that they will play the role of toxic family members who continually one up you, talk about you behind your back, will let you down and ignore you when you need them most. 

The ones that offer all sorts of hollow promises that make them sound so gracious and amazing in the moment, but when push comes to shove they never follow through and end up screwing you over with their last-minute cancellations and “forgetting” what had been previously arranged.  

Unless, of course, you are taking their kid/s, or doing something for them, and then there they are all “you guys are family” again. 

But they are always too busy to take your kid/s or go out of their way for you. They easily wave you off with a “so sorry, we’re just soooo busy right now.” (I’ve also noticed they’re usually the couples that say things like “cute!cute!cute!” to describe things.)

I’m reminded of one particular family we met because our kids were friends, so by default, the parents became friends too, because you know, when you move to a new town the only way you get to meet new people as a mom is through your kid’s friends, who were all “we love you guys,” “you’re like family, anything you need, let us know,” “we got you” and all those other noble-sounding catchphrases. They would throw out there every time I saw them; at birthday parties (our kids were about 7 at the time), baseball practices, school pick-up lines, running into them at the store…

So gracious and friendly and just nice. Except they weren’t. They wouldn’t return text messages or phone calls unless they needed something from me, otherwise, they were too busy with this and that. Or didn’t get my text or voice message until it was too late. “Oh sorry, yeah, we could have helped, but I didn’t get the message until too late.”

But if they needed me, it was all “hey bestie, can you help us out?” Of course, I would, my husband worked a lot and I was happy to have another kid for our son to play with. 

I don’t know what they used to feed their son, but he would always block the toilet. And he was always cool with it too. I remember when I was a kid if I ever did anything that caused the plumbing to not operate in an expected way, I’d be completely mortified. Breaking out in a cold sweat, freaking out that I would never be invited over again.

Not this kid, he would come out of the bathroom, announcing that the toilet wouldn’t flush properly like he just noticed it was raining or something, nonchalant as f*ck. So you’d go in, expecting half a roll of toilet paper floating in the bowl, instead, there would be a giant man-sized poop wedged at the bend of the bowl. The first time, I thought it was a prank, I mean this family was from New Jersey, so hey, maybe that was their humor. 

But it was not a joke. It seemed like this 7-year-old saved all his poop for one giant turd, in our toilet. Every time he came over.

We remained sort of friends while the boys were in elementary school but gradually drifted apart, as you do when they are social climbing and your marriage is dissolving and your entire life is coming undone. 

It was strange though because as the distance grew whenever I’d see them anywhere, they’d be right back with the “you guys are family,” “you’ll have to come over for a cookout,” and “we love you,” “if there’s anything you need just let us know,” “just reach out.”

Of course, I didn’t ask anymore, with my already vulnerable headspace and my marriage on the slippery soul-destroying end path I couldn’t deal with the potential rejection from so-called friends as well. 

I wanted to ask, “why? So you can ignore me?” I wanted to call them out on their pretty fake words, obviously spoken for the audience’s sake, and how it made them appear and feel in the moment, not because they were authentic.

Of course, I did not ever call or reach out. Because like so many other situations I’ve come to realize in life – what’s the point?