Domík is in re-convalescence after he had tonsillitis last week. We stay at home most of the time. Today we played his favorite play, visiting our friend Polar Bear at the Northern Pole. When we were buying a train ticket at the invisible ticket seller Domík asked for one "meaning".
I want a "meaning" too, I said.
We will share one, replied as he was getting a stripe of green paper from the seller.
What is it? I asked.
It tells you where you go.
With sentences like these I feel like I am taking part in the Winnie the Pooh story. I have been intrigued by the strange philosophy concept going on in the book disguised under the silly tinkling of the characters. Domík is playing and I juggle with his involuntary and misleading abstract exclamations in my head.
I have my green "meaning" on my table. It has curly lines drawn with pencil, by the kid's hand.