My best friend of many years got weird.
She’d been close enough to be a guest at our table for many Thanksgivings and Christmases. I baked her birthday cakes. She set up investment funds for our kids when they were born.
She invited us to dinner once when my older son was five and the younger was a baby. It was a pleasant enough evening, even though she’d cooked for about two people, not three adults and two children, and didn’t offer dessert, even for the kids. My older son was polite and gracious and didn’t say or do anything wrong despite disappointment in the matter of dessert. We left hungry, but nonetheless thanked her warmly.
A few days later I received a handwritten note from her that said that if my son expected to be invited back, he ought to have thanked the hostess and complimented her on the meal. I replied and said “He’s five!” and that my husband and I had thanked her on behalf of all of us.
That was the first of several instances in which she spoke or acted strangely enough that I felt I just didn’t know her any more. Out of discomfort, I distanced myself, and after that our friendship simply lapsed.