Setting: August 5, 2025 — Get Air parking lot, where best friends are made in under five minutes
Holden makes friends everywhere. He’s a little mayor — a walking welcome committee.
Tonight, the three of us went to the trampoline park. On the way back to the car, Holden beamed and said, “Mom, I made a best friend!” I asked how.
“He asked me to play alien tag.”
I asked his “best friend’s” name — you know, the kid he just bonded with for life. “I don’t know,” he said.
Then, casually — like it was nothing — Holden announced: “Caleb, if a stranger calls you, I gave him your number.”
Caleb froze. “Holden! Stop giving random strangers my number!”
I tried to reassure him. “I’m sure he didn’t give him the right number.” Until Holden turned and recited it. Correctly.
(Which is more than I can do — I don’t even know it by heart.)
Caleb was appalled. I told him the kid probably didn’t write it down. Holden told us not to worry: “He said he’ll be back at the trampoline park in seven days.”
This post is part of my One-Minute Memoir series — short reflections on small moments that still manage to say something big.
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