Childish love

She is just one year and nine months but already has a whole playground of admirers. Her appearance on this social fragment of sand with whimsical equipment and other forms of games, that freezes the blood of parents in fear that their infant can get hurt, is announced loudly by a group of older boys obviously in love with the delicate eighty-six centimetres flesh and an enigmatic smile that enlightens the world as a newly formed super nova.

The crowd and the cheers around the little miss sunshine resemble the long awaited concert of Armin Van Buuren in O2 Arena. There is a forest of raised hands and jumping little people who cheerfully tweet shaking uncertainly as small ducks on an uncut meadow. The most dedicated admirer is Kiko. He always sets eyes first on the approaching almost two years grace and prepares the crowd with ecstatic exclamations ‘She is coming, she is coming, grandma, she is comiiiiiiing!!!!!!’ A long pause for hugs, holding hands, loving gazes, negligent ticking and loud laughing follows. After the initial formalities, little miss sunshine is literally carried away by the crowd into the centre of the playground where she is being offered mostly cops cars, ambulances and other toys. For my personal astonishment, little miss sunshine shows explicit interest in vehicles and realizes with unconcealed pleasure car crashes with trucks and motorcycles.

However, I felt the greatest delight when I saw her riding a mini motorcycle, embracing through the waist a cute blond boy and emitting childishly pure joy in a radius of a whole park at least. Her dark blond curls frisk naughtily kissed by the wind while making a slow and solemn round of the fountain nearby.

It is unnecessary to stress on the fact that leaving the playground is always slow and mostly weepy. Nearly a dozen boys are left behind with broken hearts and tremulous expectation of the afternoon appearance of their beloved which will be again announced with childish hubbub and joy that feeds the soul for a month ahead.

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