They remember

PicMonkey Collage
I was at her house last year around this time round. It was her birthday and her aunt and I almost died inflating gazillion balloons that were needed to decorate the party place.

It was perhaps for the first time I was spending one-on-one time with her. I was excited because I love children and she is an adorable bunch of everything nice and pretty.

That was for three days, where we played around in the garden, took rides in the elevator, bought a bicycle, ate outside etc.

And she remembers. She remembers me and the time we spent together. I wasn’t feeling well today; I had the most excruciating stomach cramps. So when her aunt told her about the same, she replied with the wisdom that had somehow eluded the adults: “Tell her to walk safely on the road. If she falls down and gets a boo-boo, tell her to say, shoo-shoo.” She will be in town this weekend and has been going on how excited she is to see me.

I, on the other hand, must admit is having one of those fan-girl moments. I love it when children adore me and this one totally does.

Growing up, one of the things I would hear most often when tragedy struck — moving to a new place, leaving friends behind, loved ones dying — is that “kids get over things very soon. They won’t remember anything, so don’t worry about the trauma.”

But the truth is kids remember everything. I remember everything. And I am glad this little bundle of joy remembered me.


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