On Sunday, I apparently bribed the 11-year-old daughter of my long-lost, now divorced, male friend from college. You may remember that I recently ran into him in Grand Central Station in New York.

The bribe: Presents to make the kid like me!

It didn't start out seeming like a bribe to like me ... it just turned out that way. This was a great friend I’d lost touch with for 17 years. We were at each other’s weddings; he held my daughter when she was born, but I had never met his two daughters.

Last week he and I went out for an eight-hour, belly-laughing, catch-up dinner. This weekend was his weekend with his girls, and we had very loose tentative plans so that I might meet his daughter. On Sunday, around 5, I was on the endless check-out line at HomeGoods when he called.

He and his younger daughter were nearby. Did I want to join them for a bite?

Absolutely!

If you've ever been to a HomeGoods, you know they ambush you with impulse items while they have you held captive on the checkout line. I decided to buy the little girl a gift. A cute little, hard-cover notepad tied with ribbon.

Perfect!

But wait — maybe she would enjoy some origami to keep her busy at her Dad's house.

Perfect!

But wait — they just played tennis for 15 hours, and the colorful little ped socks with the different designs will probably come in handy, because no divorced Dad has a pair of cute matching ped socks for their little girls handy when they need them.

Perfect!

I couldn't decide so I bought all three. And how cute – I'll buy these manly, cool peds for my friend, so he doesn't feel left out.

When I got to the restaurant, I spotted them sitting together and weaved my way through the tables toward them. I felt a rush of compassion for this lovely, divorced father intently doing his best by his daughter on his weekend with her.

I talked a mile a minute while forking over presents one by one to this skeptical little girl, about being so happy to meet her , and how I knew her father back when, and on and on and on, as only I can do.

By her semi-disinterested facial expressions, I felt she was thinking, “Who's this broad and what's her agenda?”

And, “Is she trying to bribe me to like her?”

And, “What's with the socks for my father?”

OK, so maybe it was overkill. But truthfully, I love little girls, and I love my friend, and I love buying presents, and I was excited to meet his daughter.

In retrospect, it looked like a bribe to me too.

Next time when something like this comes up, I’ll stop at note pad.