I sat at the Cascade Café admiring the underground waterfall window and waiting for my chocolate peppermint gelato to arrive, when out of nowhere you ran up and embraced me. You were dressed all in purple and wore your golden brown hair to the side with a little braid.
Noah, your five-year-old brother, reminded me of Saint-Exupéry’s Le Petit Prince with his long scarf and love of planes and planets. Your father had dark hair, black-rimmed glasses and a smile. Your mother was tall with lavender sneakers and a big camera. She asked MAMA if we were French too. Our mothers laughed and chatted as you continued to give me spontaneous hugs and kisses in between fairy giggles.
One last strawberry scented squeeze as you waved “au revoir” and just as quickly as you appeared, you evaporated into Leo Villareal’s light tunnel.
You are a year older than me, but that is OK because I am tall.
a true toddler story
