As it turns out, epiphanies can take place in apparently inoffensive places such as a preschoolers' playgroup on a pretty dull february morning.
I lost sight of my youngest for less than one minute to start one of those uncountable unfinished conversations with another mum, and I found him back under a table, trying to munch on the leg of a chair, one of those metal, iron-like ones .
So there I am, scolding him and complaining with the other mum about kids' unfathomable attraction for the weirdest, non-edible stuff, expecting to elicit some kind of simpathy.
Instead, with a rather unexpected twist of social conventions, Other Mum emphathises with Pierrot and evokes some very buried feelings, reminding me that
"Well, if you think about it for a second, I bet YOU remember how it tastes"