Let's chat Animö with Carö

Back-to-school night for two of my sons was the 26th of August 2024, or the last 8-8-8 portal of this month, if you are a numerology geek (honestly, there are worse geekinesses to have). As I wander among other parents, trying to find my way on campus, I can't help but reminisce about my own back-to-school days, or ''rentrée scolaire.'' I also cannot resist comparisons, as if to justify my feeling of being so out of place... And in all honesty, I cannot imagine my boomer parents doing a version of this intellectual treasure hunt, year after year, times three... The weather is at least a solid 32 C, and even if not particularly humid, despite my minimalist attire (light summer dress and flip-flops), I feel like the air is a flaming cape around my body, which is also concomitantly experiencing both a mirroring adolescence by having its period AND hot flashes from peri-menopause. Not fun. So I imagine what it is like to be a student at that school, changing classes at ...

Sweet, wet, shy, warm, passionate, minty, ominous, clandestine, eye-opening. Regardless of how we classify it, un baiser or besito  rarely leaves anyone indifferent. The first portion of my adolescence was spent dreaming about my first kiss. I dreaded pretty much everything about puberty. But thank goodness for kisses ! From a young age, my fascination for kisses and my belief in their magic were to the point of believing that parents made babies that way. After hearing the shock of how babies were really made after a friend had popped my bubble in kindergarten, I had nonetheless remained enthusiastically obsessed with kissing scenes in movies, anticipating that culminating moment when two people would finally reach that juncture of the lips, as if to seal their mutual love in an embrace of smiles. And I cannot tell you how many times I created scenarios that would include a kissing scene between Barbie and Ken. I still vividly remember my first kiss with a boy named Patrick. I was...