No more young

Life ·

“Viola! Are these your mum and dad?”

Viola’s friend asks the question pointing at a picture of us, taken five years ago before… well, before her.

Ok, in the picture we’re at the beach, relaxed and tanned, pretty different from the fluorescent corpses we are today, after 10 months of the same month: Londember.

Ok, in the picture we are happy and carefree, we don’t have a clue about that exhausting thing called ‘family life’.

Ok, in that picture – I can tell it by my smile – our only problem was ‘where should we go for the next weekend?’.

Ok, five years it’s a pretty impressive amount of time: in five years you finish high school, you take a degree, you grow up. Five years are, well, five years.

Ok, we have changed a little bit.

BUT, Viola, you cannot answer:

“Yes, these are my mummy and daddy when they were young.”

Especially if I’m right behind you.