It's been already three days since The Weekend and I still haven't written anything about it. Part of me doesn't know what to say, and part of me is afraid of getting too emotional when saying what I want to say.

But long story short - it pretty much ended up being a perfect birthday weekend. For me and S. and J. it contained a lot of good food and sightseeing and selfies in the Old Town, some tea and some good conversations, a lot of laughing and maybe a few tears, some roadtripping and some getting stuck on a muddy road in the middle of Southern Estonian nowhere, a decent sauna with jumping into cold water (they made me proud:) and some hilarious going-in-circles rowing on the same lake, pancakes on Sunday morning and an adrenaline shot in an adventure park, and then on Sunday afternoon a birthday lunch with a whole bunch of the bestest of friends.

But what touched me the most and what I still keep thinking about is something my cousin's five year old son said when we were at their summer house on Saturday. This little kid thought S. and J. were my brothers, like... literal brothers. And I think it's the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Me and S. talked about it yesterday and what S. said impressed him the most about it was the fact that there are children in this world who regard the race differences as nothing. And what touched me the deepest was the fact that he thought they were my actual family. It really melted my heart. And by Sunday afternoon when we had to leave their lovely place, S. and J. weren't only my brothers and thus their family too but they had risen to the status of heroes in this child's eyes. S. had become his "ninja brother" (his actual words) and J., who had played football with him, obviously became the greatest footballer ever lived. Because, according to my cousin's son, no-one had ever kicked the ball as high as J. did. We really left their place as members of their family. So if S. or J. would ever care to come back to this country, they'd sure have a place to stay in the far corner of South Estonia. No, not a place. They'd have their family waiting for them...

But I'm getting too sentimental now.

Here are some pictures from the weekend. Some are my own photos, some are S.'s.

Compulsory Old Town selfie.

The Times.

J. behind the mountain of pillows and blankets. 

Roadtrippin'

S.

With the statue of Kissing Students, Tartu

Little J. waiting for pancakes.

Sunday morning.