One of my favourites at school is Florence. She's Swedish and some eight months older than I am. As such, she speaks both Swedish and the-Opposite-of-Gibberish very well and can thereby function as my personal translator when grown-ups fail to understand what I'm saying. (In case you don't know the-Opposite-of-Gibberish, it's a language with perfect structure and meaning, but which to an untrained ear may not sound like that.)
The grown-up person in the picture above is Linda, Florence's mom. She speaks Polish, so she too can function as a translator, when she's not occupied withtoddler-essential tasks, such as helping out at the swings.
But liking someone does not necessarily mean you want to hug that person. Florence likes hugging a lot. I only like it a little. And sometimes not at all.
The grown-up person in the picture above is Linda, Florence's mom. She speaks Polish, so she too can function as a translator, when she's not occupied withtoddler-essential tasks, such as helping out at the swings. 
But liking someone does not necessarily mean you want to hug that person. Florence likes hugging a lot. I only like it a little. And sometimes not at all. 
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