I dropped a penny in the check-out line at Safeway the other night. Knowing she’d be into it, I called Sophie over.

“Hey, there’s a penny! Make a wish.”

She crouched down, confirming the penny was heads-up (I’m raising my daughters right, after all) before picking it up.

Still squatting, not caring that she was blocking traffic, Sophie clutched the penny to her heart, scrunched her face tight and without having to pause to consider, announced, “I wish to have Sarah my whole life!”

Me too, I echoed silently, as I encouraged her to get off the ground and let the other shoppers pass.

Sarah and Sophie met on the first day of kindergarten and have pretty much been best friends ever since. In August they’ll enter fifth grade, the highest grade at our elementary school.

And after that — I don’t know yet.

The other day, Ray and I were talking (as we often do these days) about where Sophie will go for middle school.

“That’s easy,” Annabelle said, eavesdropping. “Sophie should go where Sarah goes.”

Ray’s said the same thing more than once. I’m inclined to agree — I can’t imagine Sophie’s world without Sarah in it. To be sure, their friendship has had its ups and downs, as with any relationship. They don’t always hang out on the playground — a funny pair when they do, since Sarah’s the tallest in the class and Sophie the shortest — and Sophie spends more and more time in the “resource room,” but I know Sarah is like a security blanket. Always around if Sophie needs her. And while it’s not exactly the same thing, I suspect Sophie’s presence is a similar comfort for Sarah.

But is that reason enough to choose a school? It’s part of the puzzle, for sure, but some days when I’m being honest with myself, I wonder if Sarah wouldn’t be better off in middle school without her tiny shadow. Would Sophie do better at a small, specialized school with more attention than the neighborhood middle school can offer?

Am I over thinking the whole thing, as usual?

No matter where the girls go to school, I am guessing and hoping they will remain friends; Sarah and her family have become members of ours. But I couldn’t help but wonder, standing in Safeway, if Sophie already knows what might happen in sixth grade.

None of us are ready for this.

“Get up, silly!” I said to Sophie, grabbing her home and maneuvering our cart out of the store, hoping she didn’t ruin her wish by saying it out loud.