A nice week, with new events, new people, new habits and… BISCUITS!!!!

It is funny how these round shaped, chocolate or plain, sweet and fatty beauties can change you bit by bit. For example:

We were having our usual walk  when we reached a big field.

“Well, go ahead, do some laps.” said mom.

“Yeah, I smirk, you know that my endurance is limited …”

“Well, you’ll never improve, unless you practice!”

Out of a sudden I remembered the biscuits I ate before going to the pool (where we couldn’t stay because some kid had a party and  the whole swimming pool had to close!) and I begin to run. And I like it. And I do resist.

So I started running…because of biscuits….


Running started to feel like a way to let bad things go. Evidence? Here’s a nice story:

The first morning I went for a run, I was really upset because mom only  allowed me to  me run on our street;

“You’ll not manage more than two laps anyway…” she calmly explained


Afterwards, I was really annoyed that grandma had a nice morning and I ended up fighting  her too. As I stormed out of the house, I noticed, I forgot my phone so I had to return. Grandma was talking to mum and I overheard:

‘Now she’s started baking stupid cakes!’

Those  are my cakes! The cakes she said she loved!

” You could have told me my cakes are rubbish before you pretended you enjoyed them!” I exclaimed and  I marched out.

It was a remarkable morning. The morning you see in coloring books: sunny, warm, bees are buzzing and birds are singing,  but I was still angry!

I started to run and it was so hard. Hard to run with those nasty thoughts in my head. Hard to run with the bitterness that had gathered during the week… I was soon out of breath. But I still ran and ran and ran. And little by little all cleaned away. I was sweating like a pig. I was sweating a whole week of sentimental dirt. By the time I finished  I was literarly finished. With jelly-fish legs and  a wide smile I crept back home, hoping grandma was in a better mood…She was! Maybe she had some biscuits!


We spent Sunday’s afternoon at Gary’s house. Gary is mom’s boss. It was Beautiful. They are beautiful people, with a beautiful family. People who make you feel at home…it almost felt  like a BBQ.

Gary asked his driver to takes us home. The driver told us his story (which I will not retell) but some things can be said: cherish your mother and father beyond anything! Too soon they have to go and you realise you can never do what  they did for you.


Today ends with another run, this time only shaking off the troubles of the day …and three biscuits.


P.S.: We have decided to stop buying bicuits from now on…*sniff*


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