the friendship mating ritual.

In case you haven't had a big dose of stupidly cute today, allow me. And I'm talking about really cute. Almost offensively cute.

See, when we went up to my Aunt and Uncle's for grandpa's day, it gave Lucy and her third cousin Isabela yet another chance to play together. They've met twice before, but apparently, the third date is the one where you buy best friend necklaces at Clair's because these two. Holy, wow. They are like peas and carrots now.

As per the universal code of two kids meeting, we played shy girls at first, but both desperately wanted to swim in the lake.

No one was really going to make much of a move without solid backing from some sort of an adult figure. Isabela, naturally, chose her Dad. Lucy, of course, chose Bubba.

This meant both Chuck and Kyle had the pleasure of swimming with their families watching on the dock. I mean, lucky...

Once we had adequate moral support in the water, it was time for the first event in the friendship mating ritual: showing off.

Lucy showed her skills with an impressive jump off the deck that, given the choice, I wouldn't have done. She, well, she chose to demonstrate what an awesome friend she'd be with her diving skills. Obviously.

Isabela chose her "surfing" skills which were both impressive and adorable. Clearly, she was demonstrating to Lucy that she was trustworthy, steadfast, and wise beyond her years.

There was a transition from lake to hot tub and both girls anxiously awaited to see if their friendship would take flight.

Pins and needles, people. Pins and needles.

Each played the "adorable" card.
Each executed the move flawlessly.

And then we had BFF lift off.

It only snowballed from there. The shear adorable-ness of it all was hard to swallow.
I mean, how cute are they?

If you were in need of a reminder that things can be right with the world, well. Here it is. Because these faces make everything better. And their hair. To die for.

Oh and chew on this face for an extra dose of cute.

Cuteness level: Ridiculous.

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