For four weeks now, Celeste has been banging on about a little boy she met on a Grove Park 'Music Sunday'(see my Weston Mercury blog http://www.thewestonmercury.co.uk/cs/blogs/weston-super-mum/archive/2009/05/11/1680305.aspx). We'll call him L2 (you'll see why in a moment). She remembers his name and the fun they had dancing to Sir Duke and Abba next to the bandstand that one hot Sunday afternoon and now, every time we're back in that vicinity she mentions L2, reasoning, I suppose, that that's where he should be found: he was there once, he'll be there again. It's their place.
And today he did make an appearance at the bandstand with his mum and his ball. Girl and boy were thrilled to see each other. They played and ran and screamed at the fish in the pond. The lucky fish couldn't hear the noise they were making; they were under water. But I was not! Talking to L2's mum, it transpires that they're neighbours with my cider-drinking mum friend, G, from last week and her son, L, who we will now call L1 (I have to - he's numero uno in Celeste's head, Number 1 L and Number 1 friend!).
After a while, Celeste decided that she'd seen enough of L2 and wanted to go back up to the swings. They hugged each other and said their bye-byes. L2 started crying. Because Celeste was leaving. Aw... She seemed indifferent to his tears but I think that she was a little pleased by the effect she was having on this boy, the heartless little ......
We climbed up the stairs and who's there at the top, on the slide? Only L1 and his Mum. Heartbreaker Girl and L1 were ridiculously excited at the serendipity of bumping into each other like this, outside of pre-school, and the screaming competition began straight away, followed by the "high, faster, Mummy" contest on the baby swings. When both mums' arms could take no more, we synchronised our leaving so as to ease any pain and to lessen whines of "I want to stay in the park." L1 and Celeste did the big goodbye cuddle and seemed very grown-up about the whole parting.
Until L1 and his mum started to disappear down the hill, in the opposite direction to us: that's when Celeste cried real tears, no protest or resistance at going home, just genuine chagrin at having to leave her mate. So, there's L2 sobbing about Celeste at the bottom of the park and Celeste crying over L1 at the top.
Who will be responsible for L1's tears, I wonder?