Gustav saw this girl. You know. A girl. That is what you do when you grow up, whether you are a sheep or a goat. You grow up. Eventually. Even when you don’t grow in size. But something grows. And with Gustav it was his eyes. He knew that when humans see someone they like, their pupils enlarge. He never knew it could happen to sheep. And now to goats!
‘Oh my’, Gustav aghasted. ‘My facial hair! My goatee!’
‘Let me groom a little, a goat has to take care of himself, you know,’ Gustav said. ‘No, really. I do this for myself only. Of course the ladies appreciate it if you look nice, but sorry to throw in a cliché here, it’s on what’s on the inside that counts. Or at least that is wat stays for longer, for my goatee will eventually become thinner, and you all know what that means. Thinner hair and you’re out of there.’
‘So. This girl. Shall I compare her to a book? Then she is ‘chapter seventeen’. Shall I compare here to fruit? Then I would store her in my freezer so I could take small bites for the rest of the year. Shall I compare her to a goat? Nah.’
‘Tell me more about her,’ little Gustav asked. ‘Will she like you, what do you think? Is it a goat? A sheep? But.. wait.. before you do.. tell me about this thing that they call love.’
‘Because,’ little Gustav continued, ‘I have heard that many times friendships are broken up when new relationsheeps arise. Please promise this won’t happen to us!’
‘I mean, I just complete you, wouldn’t you say?’ little Gustav said. ‘See how grown up you look next to me? I don’t even make you look good, I make you look large!’
‘Even when I climb on you a little, pretending to be a monkey even. Not a sheep, not a goat, but a monkee. Mah!’
Big Gustav promised his little pupil. And he did something more than promise. He explained about love. That love isn’t divided by two if you divide it among two. It’s the same amount. Little Gustav pretended not to hear all of this, because he just wanted to play.
‘Okay then’, the little one said. ‘One more picture then, before you go off winning this girls’ heart. And remember, if she doesn’t like the facial hair, get the bleep outta there!’