#Spotted at an Italian Festival in Aotearoa #newzealand

A tiny human (2?) gives her mum a gelato-smeared smile and asks: "Mum, am I squishie?"
Her mum gives her a cuddle and, feigning serious, says: "Hmm. A little bit squishie."
Small human giggles in delight: "NOOO! I'm VERY SQUISHIE!"

A small human (3?) in orange overalls is walking next to his dad, his expression tragic, his steps heavy, his tone tearily, beseeching as he pleads his case: "No Papa. No Pizza! No Pizza! Gelato Papa! GELATOOOOOOO!"

A woman (40s?) with a thick New Jersey accent is standing in line for ravioli. She's delighted to learn that the Kiwi woman behind her speaks Italian and they're soon fast-paced chatting, hands flying everywhere. Laughter, connection and delicious food.

A row of women (70s+?) in straw hats, sun dresses and sensible shoes are sitting on a long bench under a shady tree. They're all watching a performance of 'Time to Say Goodbye' while a holding an assortment of fluffy button-eyed dogs.

A divine woman (40s?) shimmers past long tables of people eating plates heaped with pizza and pasta. She's rocking a lace parasol, a pink New Look-style 50s dress, white heels and a Lucille Ball do. This is her moment in the sun. Appreciative looks as she goes.

Any typos spotted in this post would like to plead their case for gelato, not pizza. If spotted, please tell them they're VERY SQUISHIE, and maybe save them a seat to eat the gelato, which Papa gets them... after pizza...