I was holding Ezra on my hip, climbing up the steps to the top of the curvy slide so we could go down together, when I was stopped in my tracks by a frighteningly high-pitched squeal of “awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.” Directly in front of me were two 10 year old girls. “Oh my god he’s so cute. Isn’t he so cute? Look at how cute he is! He’s so cute! Are you going down the slide? That’s so cute.”
They clambered down the steps to meet us at the bottom. I showed them how I could sit him on the top of the tiny baby slide all by himself and then hold his hands as he slid down. They pronounced the technique “so cute!”
They informed me that they were in 4th grade and were best friends forever. I introduced them to Ezra. “Ezra,” they carefully repeated. They hugged him and bounced him on their laps. They followed him as he crawled on the macadam, and gasped when he tried to eat some twigs.
As the drizzle started to pick up and I told them we had to go, they sighed in sadness and promised to see us again at the park sometime. “Goodbye Efron!” they yelled after us.