Opinion | Merry greeting – NRC

The daughter (8) and I are standing at a parking meter in The Hague. Hassle: coins, debit card, zone number, parking times. Someone is coming. Formiliar face. I go through the registers of my memory: untraceable. Greetings when in doubt. “Hello!” Merry greeting back. Happy. “Mom! That was the Prime Minister!” damn. That was it.

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