Wednesday, 13 February 2013
My friend Tilio
When we arrived at Tilio's place yesterday morning, Tilio came out to welcome us and Owen cheerfully hollered "Hello my friend Tilio". "My friend Tilio" is Owen's bestest little buddy. He's very cute. I want to pop him in my pocket... which is I suppose only marginally less weird than all these people who go around professing to want to eat babies. Owen is always asking me if he can see Tilio and à propos of nothing will frequently hold out his hands in despair and mournfully lament "My friend Tilio not here". Friendships at this age are so sweet. Immediate and honest. Whenever the two boys meet hugs and kisses are freely exchanged with amorous abandon. When they want the same toy (and they're two years old, so they often want the same toy) there are tears and bitter accusations. But they're quickly forgotten in favour of a new game.
I don't know if they'll still be friends when they're twenty but it's nice to remember those first fierce attachments.
Owen Senna and Lewis Hamiltilio. They kept this up for hours, days, weeks... my commentating (and please excuse the French) got less and less Murray Walker and more and more Bill Murray with each successive lap.