Regrettably I'm unable to truly capture the wonderful moment this morning when I took the kids to school and I wish I had had my camera ready ... (I feel like I'm scribbling with crayons on an animal-hide canvas trying to reproduce the Mona Lisa!). I'll do my best though ...
Picture the scene: I'm walking through the kids' school parking lot, Hope's to my right with her hand in mine, while she pulls along her little wheelie backpack. A couple of meters up ahead, Arthur is frolicking towards the school with his Lightning McQueen wheelie bag trundling along behind him.
Suddenly, seemingly inexplicably, Arthur stops. He looks over his left shoulder. He's spotted something. He drops his wheelie bag and spins on his heels back towards the parking lot, his face splitting in half from ear-to-ear with a massive grin on his face.
From where I'm standing (I've now paused because I fear he's spotted a giant purple dinosaur lumbering up from behind me) I can't see what has caught his attention but I can hear something gracelessly scrambling along the gravel stones, hidden from my view among the cars. I strain to look and I spot this tiny three'ish year-old figure sprinting, as fast as little three'ish year-old legs can safely permit, towards Arthur. I can't make out who it is but I can see two arms sprawling in the air as the forward momentum buffets the arms against the air resistance pushing them back as if this kid is a miniature version of one of those tall arm-waving air dancers on the loose.
Then I make out who it is - it's Arthur's bestest ever bestest friend of all time in the whole life of the whole big giant completely whole world, Ollie, at which point said friend lovingly bundles straight into Arthur with all the energy of a sugar-frenzied child in a sweet shop and the two lock arms around each other as if they're clinging to the very essence of life itself.
Half a minute passes, and they haven't shown any sign of even considered lifting their heads from each other's shoulders while they continue to rock from side to side in what would have befitted two grown men in a "world-cup-winning-try celebratory embrace". These two aren't two grown men, though - they're two little boys on the very cusp of life and what hits me as I'm basking in this visual spectacle of unadulterated joy is that the most amazing thing is neither of them scored a try or did anything more to deserve this affectionate love other than that they are both just awesome little kids who don't see the warts, the nonsense, the bollocks of life.
Then, very slowly, cautious to ensure their actions don't end time itself, they release, turn around, and walk into school together.
