As I’m investing myself wholeheartedly in my daily dose of this, you slide over and sweetly romantically half whisper,
“I’m so glad that you married my Dad... I’m so glad that we have him.”
Instantly, tears come flying out of my face without warning. I force a laugh-out-loud to assure you this is a “good” cry.
I begin to bask in the connection of our hearts, how you must be feeling the same things I have been feeling at a heightened level these days.
I revisit my shoebox stuffed with memories of times I've been certain that you could read my mind. I slide this moment inside and proudly shut the lid.
I get all the way to the part where my heart is gloating over how incredibly insightful, splendid, and well expressed you are... and then the needle rips across the record cutting to the blunt sound of your point,
“if we didn’t have that Dad, we for sure wouldn’t have an XBox.”
...
Finally the dead silence is broken by my snorting laughter.
You are a riot!
