I have a confession that is going to make a bunch of people smile complacently. So enjoy the moment, it probably won't come again, and don't you dare email me saying 'I told you so.'
I had my first maternity pang.
It's not my fault. It's Nena's. The sweetest little Bolivian baby that ever, ever tumbled (she can't really walk) across this planet. But what was I supposed to do? There we were in Coroico, and this adopted muffin looked up at me with these big black eyes and just begged to be hugged. She couldn't talk at eleven months, but she most definitely conveyed enough love to have me wrapped around her little finger. She had been adopted by the owners only a month ago (why did her parents leave her? How could anyone have left Nena?!), but was so comfortable there that you would never have known. The first time I saw her, she was trying to nap, but no luck. Instead, she decided to play. All the guests went gaga for Nena, obviously, so she was in high demand for attention. Her little way of holding her hands up high in the air as she stumbled from one hang-on-able object to another, of coming over and climbing into your lap and falling asleep there, twitching with her dreams of playing and running around, who couldn't have completely fallen for her. These long, long fingers with these tiny finger nails, and her language all to herself as she huffed and puffed to try and make herself understood. Even the usual baby things I hate she did with grace; she would always leave someone's lap to go pee elsewhere. So considerate. After a mere two days in this place, I was near tears when saying goodbye to her.
She was the sweetest spider monkey ever.
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