start with. We return, as would say some nice expat, to civilization. Oh yes, I say, your calendar this civilization, not have to be careful to open manholes while driving, eh, no, God forbid. You have to be careful only to the stones that you can rain on my head, pulled by guys who grew up on bread and nothing.
We return to the country where it is easier to pull up a nice polite boy, that if you enter into a shop and begins to make the child look at you all wrong, I warn, you scolded. Not like here, for heaven's sake, that if the child begins to make the baby, they start making babies, too.
is finally back to civilization of the gardens clean, because here are clean mica know, there are plastic bottles of Mirinda, cans of beer, soft bags, Patat, packets of cigarettes. But I'm a mom strange and perilous uncivilized and do not shock me that much if BabyM stumbles into an old tin can, but I still remember with horror our gardens clean, shiny needles with those who shine in the grass neat.
Go back to civilization BabyM. Never leave the mother's hand in the civilized world, my love, which is so fragile our civilization is that it is easy to open a gap, so suddenly and disappears inside you there.
And do not cry, my love, I'm civilized world, the tears of a child does not bear them.
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