Picture the scene.
Paris, France, a very long time ago.
My toddler self managed to find his way onto the balcony of our flat. I don’t know exactly which floor we lived on, but in my memory, it looked like maybe it was the fourth floor. Edit: Checked with mum, it was the second floor. And I was probably 3.
This memory, I think set the tone to how much my imagination would go on to influence me in life (I mean, look at my recent creations)
I am beating the balcony railing like a drum with two sticks (which, knowing me, were probably wooden spoons, as I can’t imagine where else I’d have procured proper sticks) shouting, “C’est la fête!” (“It’s a party!”)
And what did I do to truly add to the festive ambience? I decided to throw confetti! Except, there was no confetti around, so what I was actually throwing was anything and everything I could put my little hands on (mainly my toys).
The next thing I remember is standing amidst my mess, looking down at my sandals, feeling half embarrassed and half trying to pretend I was innocent, while my mum picked it all up.
I wonder if I even helped her clean up out of guilt. I can’t quite recall.
I could be a bit of a handful sometimes…Well… Nothing has really changed!
Another thing that never changed: I’ve always been very musical. I still remember my favourite song of the time. Yes I was 3! You won’t know it, but it’s called “chipie” here it is if you’re curious
I wonder what other bloggers will say. I sure will be snooping. (Join me 😜)
Agape.
R.
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