Several weeks ago, I wrote that a young friend I had walked with was having a drink with Michelle Obama that night. Many of you asked for a detailed report. So did I.

My friend and I walked again one afternoon last week and I finally got the lowdown on what it was like to have a drink (and dinner) with the former first lady. She explained how they met and became friends (kids the same age at the same school, bonding over soccer games and other school activities). There were sleepovers at the White House and Camp David for her girls, and agents of the Secret Service in my friend’s driveway overnight when the Obama girls slept at her house. Just ordinary parents making plans for their kids—except that one set of parents was rather famous.

I have no “juicy” secrets to keep from you about their dinner conversation. Just two friends at a restaurant on a quiet Monday, small inconspicuous Secret Service detail nearby, having the same talk that I might have had with any of my friends when I was in my fifties (except for the part about the first lady liking her official portrait).

I loved hearing how Michelle Obama is so much like the rest of us, that she has the same concerns about her family as the rest of us, that she has to figure out what to do with the rest of her life,  just as the rest of us.