Thought for the day: It is quite possible to have friends you really don't like at all, in fact it is possibly more common than otherwise.

Two women, one a mother with a toddler, one without. Both English speaking, but not as a first language. Both relatively affluent in appearance. In the children's section of a bookshop.
The toddler played with the books as they tallked. The non-mother was intent on buying presents for the toddler - picking up books, "Look. Don't you think this would be nice? He could play with the wheels. Or this. It's lovely, look at the flaps..." The mother resisted. "You have already bought him all these presents, and it's very nice, but..." The non-mother over-rode her, refused to listen. The mother's voice rose, quavered, not quite daring to openly revolt. "Too expensive," she protested. "But we see you so rarely," the other replied, "we would buy you more if we saw you more often."
The power struggle tensed the muscles in the air between them. One had something that challenged the other: the toddler, a baby, motherhood. The other had money, power - and somehow, back in the unknown mists of their shared history, a social ascendency that made her friend defer to her. Lady Bountiful. She didn't or wouldn't hear the genuine anxiety in her friend's voice as she tried to resist presents she didn't want. Now and then the mother tried to offer something, say 'Well, then, I must buy you something. I will get this and you can get this, cheaper one." A blank negative met her. There was persistence, atttrition. They were polite to each other, as two horses straining at the rope of a shared social plough. Relationships betwene girls turn very easily into relationships between women. Moebius band leads out of school, and no-one sees where the twist comes. We're back where we started, in the first year. And if she's going to buy your toddler presents, take him over, maybe that's the first and only time you can say no. Because she did say no, that woman, in the end, and it was hard, but she did it.