Like eating French bread at my grand-mother's old farm, and picking more roses than all of the vases we own can possibly hold. And when we decide we have enough of them, just stop and smell the sweet air around them.
Like taking care of little puppies, hugging them tight all over my auntie's yard, and looking at Madeline get mad at them because they tried to chew off her little red shoes.
And stuffing ourselves with more raspberries while our papou takes care of his bees, only to see him bring us some fresh honey to dipp our fingers in. Seriously, how much better does life really get?
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