Yesterday, Annabelle and her friend Bhavini carved pumpkins. (These are their pumpkins, above.)

Yeah, kids all over America carved pumpkins yesterday (I know this from Facebook) but this was special because it’s the third year in a row Bhavini has come over to carve pumpkins with us. She and her mom might return to India within the next year, so it might be the last time, too.

Annabelle and Bhavini have a really wonderful relationship. Bhavini is wicked smart (she even skipped a grade this year) and I get the impression she doesn’t play with a lot of kids at school. But for some reason these two have always clicked and I smiled yesterday, listening to their banter and nicknames for one another.

Sophie joined in on much of the fun (she carved a pumpkin, too, all the girls had help from Ray while I was on clean-up and pumpkin seed roasting — rather, burning — detail) but this was clearly Annabelle’s play date.

We dropped Bhavini off at her apartment, then headed to my mom and dad’s for a birthday dinner for me (since in this family, birthdays are a month-long string of celebrations — hey, I’m not complaining) and I remarked that one day soon, Annabelle would have a play date at Bhavini’s house.

Then I remembered Sophie was in the back seat.

“Annabelle go to Bhavini’s house?” Sophie asked. I knew what was coming next.

“You’re going to have a play date soon, too, Sophie, with Sarah!” I said quickly and extra cheerfully.

She was happy about that. Phew. I relaxed in my seat, crisis averted.

And then something odd happened. Annabelle said, rather matter-of-factly, “You know, I don’t think Sarah really likes Sophie.”

My first response to was to shush Annabelle.

“Hey, that’s not nice! Sophie’s sitting right next to you!” I said, probably a little too harshly.

But she caught me off guard. Other kids? Yeah, I can see it. But not Sarah. I sat through a three hour play date a couple weeks ago and witnessed how much fun the two have together. It is true that Sarah’s not a super smiley person (one of the things I love about her) and I thought maybe that prompted Annabelle’s comment.

I cornered her (nicely, I promise) when we got out of the car, after Sophie had run ahead to my parents’ back door. Even Ray — normally not that into social dynamics – stuck around to listen.

“Why did you say that about Sarah and Sophie?” I asked Annabelle. “There must be a reason. Did someone say something? Did you see something?”

Annabelle just shrugged. “No,” she said.

And that was all she would say, even after further prodding.

I may not ever have the answer, but as I tried to shake my sudden bad mood and get into the birthday spirit, it occurred to me yet again that at 8, Annabelle is wiser than I am on the brink of 43.

Unlike her mother, the kid knows when to keep her mouth shut.