Two months ago was born the child of a friend of mine, who knew when we were both 11 years old. The first baby in the company with which I grew up. Yesterday afternoon, I held in my arms, small and delicate, aromatic fragrance of the typical infant that only they possess, in a mixture of milk, talcum powder and thin skin. * _ *
's wonderful idea that the rosy and chubby little thing who was sleeping peacefully on my shoulder and out of nowhere: there was none before, there is now. Her father was my classmate, her mother is younger than me ... O_O
Looking at the human infant in my arms, I found myself thrown at the time 5-6 years in which plays the mother of my dolls, when, considering the age when I could get really, it was only a nebulous light years away.
And then the future comes, you're prepared or not. And in front of that little thing you discover that you are no longer a girl, but if you'd just now wants the force to give birth, a baby cradled true (surprise, if he falls, breaks this time), change, grow.
I think the verses of a song by Alex Britti:
"There's a gypsy happy
into the heart of every woman,
when nature explodes
and call you mom."
Who knows why, but to me this kind of thing that explodes like a casino. And 'the image of a world that suddenly changes, a revolution in progress. It was you, only you all this time, until here now your goal is to make the best possible life of a soul that derives directly from the existence of yours.
Ok ok enough, when I speak of children become mawkish ...
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