Dia das Criancas

Friday was Dia das Criancas, "The Day of Kids." Paul had the day off and Sam basically had the week off. He went to school, but they cancelled all homework and all seriousness. They played games, were encouraged to ditch their uniforms and wear costumes or "happy and colorful" clothes, took a special bus ride to one of the Tia's houses for a picnic lunch and came home with a giant bouncy ball, one each for all of the kids, gifts from their teachers on Thursday, the last day of the week.

Friday most of the city shut down and blew up with activities for kids. We headed back to Parque da Cidade where we had spent the day last year. The Secretaria de Estado da Crianca or the Secretary for the State of Children with the Ministry of Health set up hundreds of free tramolines, bounce houses and bounce slides through out the giant park. There were bands playing, theaters, Alvin and the Chipmunks covering Backstreet Boys tunes on a big stage, video games, juggling lession, stilt walking lessons, popcorn, balloons and fun the likes of Disney without all the cash. Everything was free, save for the popcorn which is about the equivalent of a dollar.

Last year we parked near (and consequently discovered) the go-karts, but didn't ride. This year, we knew we had drivers. We parked, wove through the trampolines and headed right for the track. Peter, always our adventurous child, swung immediately through the turnstiles and before I could even grab my camera had a helmet on and was being picked up and set into a tiny Formula 1 car. "But, he is so tiny, so young!" I hear you crying, but we are in Brazil, friends, where there aren't a million silly rules, you don't have to be "this" tall to ride this ride and with the careful assistance of a go-kart employee, even your tiniest boy's wishes can safely come true. Really, though, you only have to be three. Which Pete is....almost. 

As he sped away down the track, I looked at Paul and panicked, "Is he ok? Is he scared?" 

You see Pete leaps before he looks, but we know this.

However as he rounded his first loop of the track, we attempted to catch the attention of his "co-pilot" wanting to make sure, in fact, he was having fun and even perhaps cut his race short. Instead, we spied again, his smiling eyes from behind his plexi visor and he sped away again.

We asked Sam if he was ready to go, if he wanted to. He didn't. Always our timid and careful boy. But, as Pete rounded the track once again Sam might have glimpsed the ecstasy in Pete's eyes, too and he jumped the turn stiles and was in his little silver car before I knew he was gone. One quick thumbs up and off he went.

Clemmie watched squealing as they "zoomed" by.

...and then, reluctantly, after something like five laps and 20 minutes later, Pete pulled up, pulled off his helmet with the help of his co-pilot and was instantly at least two years older with the hair of the future formula one racer that I see in my nightmares. But, the kid was so happy and if they are happy that, my friends is all we can hope for. That and a pair of sharp wire cutters that I can use to cut the ignition on his real race car someday so he will be forced to be sidelined each and every race day.

Then Sam zoomed by and with each lap they raced they wrapped my heart around those tire-lined curves, stretching it to the far reaches of its experience and then they came home, which I hope they always do....in one piece....

Happier than ever.