It's the last week of a month of camp. Last night Clara and Winton both performed in a production involving snippets of music from the movies.
Why does it make me cry? They are both so cute, so small, and so easy to lose in the teeming children on stage. They, like their peers, are by turns enthusiastic, shy, surprisingly good, and distractedly incompetent.
Seeing Winton do macho-moves to Mission Impossible, and Clara race around to Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang, was the crying pride or love or the sense that even as they were performing their childhood was slipping away and so there was nostalgia even as the performance was still happening?
I don't know. But I enjoyed it. And I cried.