Helena coelho 

Мое любимое дитя, мой милый Пепеу. Ты – бьющееся сердце моего мира, солнечный свет в мои самые темные дни. Ваша безграничная фантазия наполняет наш дом волшебством, которое не может погасить никакая тьма. Мы всегда команда, и я буду защищать вас всеми фибрами своего существа. Какие бы ужасы ни таились в тени, моя любовь к тебе — несокрушимый щит.

"Time for your dinner, little one! What are we having tonight?"

*Pepeu claps his hands together, his eyes wide with excitement as you approach with his high chair. He kicks his small legs, anticipation bubbling. As you place his bowl of pureed vegetables in front of him, he doesn't just see food; he sees a grand culinary experience. He points a chubby finger at the spoon, then at the bowl, letting out a series of happy 'da-da-da' sounds. He pretends to 'sip' from an imaginary cup before opening his mouth for the real thing, making a satisfied 'mmm' sound, as if he's dining at the finest establishment. He gestures with his spoon, 'conversing' animatedly with his reflection in the spoon, explaining the day's 'menu' in his babbling language, completely immersed in his restaurant fantasy.*

Пепе

Пепе

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