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| I've moved |
| 05.21.06 (7:07 pm) [edit] |
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| Crazy Palestinian neighbors |
| 09.09.05 (4:48 pm) [edit] |
I have this neighbor named Gus. He is Palestinian. That isn't a bad thing, but it gives you a frame of referance. He speaks with a heavy accent, has really bad teeth and loves to drink. He has a nice wife and two nice kids. He has invited me over for "shishkabob" several times, but I am smart enough to always have plans. That all ended today.
Today, the wife of Gus encountered my wife and they talked. The wife of Gus (I can't remember her name) somehow got my wife into their house and kept her their for a couple of hours. My wife had to go grocery shopping and was only able to leave after she promised that we would all come back that evening after I got home from work. I have a five month old baby, by the way, and he was invited too.
Now, I am the kind of person who works really hard at work, and when I come home from work I just want to play with my kid for a while, lift some weights for an hour, cook dinner and relax. When she informed me of what she had done, I wasn't pleased. I told her I wasn't going. She said that they were so nice and she would feel guilty if we didn't go. I told her too bad. Maybe if I was a prick and didn't go, they would get the hint. She begged and I gave in, thinking that maybe the baby would be our way out. I have never been so wrong.
We went over to the Gus house and were welcomed into the living room. We sat on a couch and were served Pepsi with no ice, and a smaller glass of water, again with no ice. She then brought out these arabic meat pie things for us to eat. You eat them with you hands, but she didn't have any napkins. We were each given a couple of kleenex, though. Despite the house being about 200 degrees, the baby was being good.
Then Gus arrived with beer. He brought me one and the wife of Gus took my wife into the kitchen. I haven't seen her since. Gus and I drank our beer, and I tried to think cool thoughts to keep from cooking to death. Abe was still being good. Gus got up to go outside and smoke a cigarette and I seized the opportunity to find some breatable air and went with him. He tried to tell me that the furnace he calls home was better for my boy, but I assured him that Abe love being outside. So, we sat on the porch.
Gus kept bringing more beer, and Abe finally fell asleep. Gus told me I should put him in the house on his kid's bed. I told him Abe would wake up in a strange place and be freaked out, and that he was just fine on my lap. Just then, one of his cohorts showed up. So, this other guy sits down and they start drinking whiskey. They also start conversing in arabic, which I do not happen to speak, so I was pretty much just sitting there thinking about how many ways I know to kill these two people.
Then my boy woke up crying. I told them that I should leave and put him to sleep, but Gus said that I just needed to change him. So, I told him that I would try that and come back. I walked over to my house, changed the diaper, and apologized to Abe for letting his mother get us into this mess. Then I marched back over there hoping I could get him back to sleep. It is really tough when he gets off his schedule.
Well, I returned to the arabic conversation and found that I hadn't missing anything. I sat down and had yet another beer placed in front of me. I am really starting to get pissed at this point. Abe continued to fuss and squirm because he was so tired, but there were too many distractions for him to fall asleep. I could feel my blood beginning to boil and I knew the angry mean man that lives inside of me was beginning to wake up. I have a notoriously wicked temper, but it remains totally unrevealed until I pass the point of no return. When that happens, I am ruthlessly brutal to the people causing my problem. I didn't want that to happen here, so I got up and told Gus that I had to take the baby home and put him to sleep. He told me we were having "shishkabob" and that he would wait for me.
I didn't tell my wife I was leaving. Three hours ago. I came home and put my poor boy to sleep. It wasn't easy. He was wimpering pitifully and just wasn't having a good night. Finally, he crashed and is sleeping soundly. He ususally eats (breastfeeds) at ten. It is an hour past that now. I don't know where my wife is or what these people are doing to to her. I imagine she is just trapped there trying to be nice and letting them talk her into staying for "shishkabab". I left her there on purpose so that she would learn her lesson and never, ever get us into this situation again.
I am putting my house up for sale tomorrow and getting the hell away from these weirdo people.
Update:
My wife finally returned home at 12:15 a.m.!!!!! They kept stuffing her full of food. Apparently, Gus came over to get me. He knocked on the door, but neither I nor the dog heard him. Gus and his family are deathly afraid of dogs. Usually I keep my dog in the house. I think I am going to start chaining him on the back porch to keep the neighbors at bay. Oh, they invited us over again tonight. My wife wants to make up an excuse, but I told her that would just lead to another invitation. I recommended that she just say no, and keep saying no. They can't drag us over there, and sooner or later, one of us will move away.
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| Morning person |
| 08.28.05 (5:00 am) [edit] |
I am a notorious morning person. I say notorious because I am the only one in my family who is one...until now. My boy is definetly the same as me. This morning my wife brought him into the bed with us at some point. I wouldn't know when because I don't wake up to such things. Actually, I am not sure what I would wake up to in the middle of the night...I hardly ever do. Anyway, I wake up this morning to him making his little sounds to himself. I look over and my wife is still sound asleep, but Abe is lying there looking at his hands raised out in front of himself and talking his language. He must have seen me move because he turned toward me. When he saw me looking at him he busted this big grin and gave me his little "hnn" noise that means he is cracking up with delight. Then he rolls over on his side and starts grabbing my nose and touching my face, all the while making those noises. It was pretty cool. He is getting really good at the hand coordination now. He has figured out that he can grab things and put them in his mouth and so that is where everything goes.
We have a white boxer named Benny. Abe is fascinated with Benny. This dog used to be so crazy, but now he is really calm and gentle around Abe. Whenever he comes into the room, Abe stops what he is doing and watches him. He almost always smiles. Benny went through some attention withdrawals there for a while, but I think he knows now that soon he is going to have a new best friend. The only bad thing is that boxers don't live very long and Abe is going to be pretty young when he dies. Maybe 7 or 8 if we are lucky. I am already planning on how I can use that event to teach him how to handle a big loss like that.
This week he gets his first airplane ride. We are going to Oregon to visit some people and take a vacation. He is also going to get dipped into the Pacific ocean. My wife insists that it will be too cold, but I am doing it anyway. If I let her decide everything the poor kid would never experience adventure. I am staying a couple of days in a place called Bandon. It is one of my favorite places on the coast out there. Big cliffs, waves crashing against huge rocks. Really beautiful.
I got all the tide charts for while I am there so that I can look for rocks. I am hoping to find a nice big blue or red agate that would fetch me enough to pay for the trip. It is going to be nice.
A couple of nites we are staying with my ex-inlaws. Most people think it is the wierdest thing in the world to do that, but I love that family. I stayed friends with my exwife, and I don't see any reason at all to not maintain those relationships. They have always treated me like I was thier own child, and they have made my current wife feel totally at ease there. That is something that not a lot of people get to enjoy, I think. But, I am the luckiest man alive, so it fits.
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| I made my boy cry |
| 08.24.05 (4:08 pm) [edit] |
I read this article about how babies know a lot more about their world than people think, so I figured I would duplicate some of the experiments I read about. I was in the dentist's office, so I only got through half the article. Anyway, I came home and played peek a boo with Abe. The first couple of times I had on a happy face and he smiled back and did his little noise that is his laugh (kind of like "hnnn"). Then I put on a mean face. At first he smiled, but he had a puzzled look on his face. I did it again and this time he didn't smile. The third time he wouldn't even look at me. So, he does recognize facial expressions. They said in the article that babies are more tuned in than grown people to the tiny nuances of our faces and they can pick up the most subtle changes.
Well, then that night he didn't want to calm down and sleep. Normally, we would just be patient and wait for him to do it, but I tried something new and used a stern voice and said "enough!". He looked at me for a second, didn't see a smile, and started to cry. A really sad cry too. Made me feel bad. I won't be doing that again anytime soon.
I am glad that he is troubled by my dissapproval, though. Hopefully I can keep that going.
I still can't believe how much I love him.
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| Naked Billy |
| 08.19.05 (11:17 am) [edit] |
Every year in July a group of guys gather's in Cook's Forest in Pennsylvania. We have been friends since high school (let's say well over 20 years), and we are closer than brothers. No matter where we move off to, we always manage to make it back for that weekend out in the wilderness. Okay, so it isn't really wilderness. We "camp" in a cabin, and get all liquored up in a local bar where we have become quite famous. We do cook over a fire, though, if that counts for anything.
I have tons of stories from these weekends. Most of them involve my friend, Billy. Now, Billy likes to get naked. We are not quite sure as to why this is, but for some reason, he is naked a lot. He claims to not be gay, but we do wonder. This story is one of the best.
We get to our cabin in the woods and we get all unpacked and settled in. This only the second time we had held our annual weekend, so we were still kind of new at it. We cracked the first beer, and Billy decided he needed to use the bathroom. He went into the bathroom and after a few minutes he started calling me. I asked him what he wanted through the closed door and he told me to come in. I told him there was no way I was coming in there, and he said that I had to. There was an animal in there. I wasn't sure what he was referring to, but he got me curious so I opened the door.
Billy was sitting there, naked. Again, I didn't know why he was naked, but he was. He was sitting there and he pointed into the shower and said there was an animal in there and he needed me to take care of it. I looked into the shower and, sure enough, there was what looked like a dead mouse head sticking up out of the drain. I told Billy not to worry about it and that I would take care of it when he was finished. I then left the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I told the other guys what was going on and we all kind of shrugged and drank our beer.
A few minutes go by and all of a sudden the bathroom door comes crashing open and Billy is running through the cabin, naked and screaming like a little school girl. Lucky for him, the door was closed so he didn't run outside. Instead he came running over to me and got behind my chair. He was really scared.
I guess that after I left the bathroom, Billy couldn't just leave the mouse alone. So, he picks up the toilet brush and reaches over and pokes it. Well, the thing started coming up out of the drain, and when it did, it spread it's wings revealing to Billy that it was no a mouse, but a BAT!!!!! Billy was sure that it would bite off something important, so he lit a shuck out of there.
After hearing what was in there, Jim and I found a coffee can and went into the bathroom. I didn't want to kill the poor thing, so we just got it into the can and then took it outside. We dumped it into the woods and it is still eating bugs to this day, as far as we know.
I have a lot more naked Billy stories.
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| Babies change too fast |
| 08.13.05 (2:40 pm) [edit] |
Abe is changing too fast for my liking. On the other hand, there is something new every single day. It is a bittersweet existance.
I think I wrote before how when I would carry him up to bed he would crack his eyes open and smile when he saw me. I used to so look forward to that. Well, he is 4 1/2 months old now and when I carry him up to bed he just squirms and makes noises like I am really bothering him. He would rather just sleep undisturbed.
Add to that the fact that he just doesn't seem as interest in me anymore. He used to stare at me and smile all the time. Now he can see further away and would rather look at a light or the stupid clock that hangs by my chair. It has lots of shiny moving parts.
Enough of the pessimism. Now for the cool new things. I am working on several things at once with him, and he is making very good progress. First, he is becoming pretty noisy. After listening to him for a few days, I have decided that his first word should be "hi". This is because he can make the "h" sound and the "i" sound pretty easily. He seems to get all the vowels without trouble, but "hi" is a good word to start out with. He has actually said it a few times, but I think it was accidentally. Hopefully, after another week or two I will be able to get him to say it on cue.
Next, we are working on crawling. He is getting really close. He is actually doing what I call the "face plow" really well. He gets his legs under him and pushes his butt up into the air and then starts pushing forward. His face is all mashed into the floor, but he doesn't seem to mind. I think he likes the fact that he is actually getting somewhere. He can't seem to figure out how to get his arms under him and lift at the same time. He is making good progress, though. Couple more weeks there, too, and I think he will have it.
Finally, we are working on balance. This is coming along very nicely. We practice this by sitting and standing against things. He seems to get a stronger every day and now he can easily stand while holding on to a piece of furniture for a long time....maybe a minute if you can keep him interested in something. Sitting is no problem what so ever. He doesn't know how to pull himself up to a standing position by himself yet, but I am waiting to start on that one.
I have also discovered that he loves music and he is as mesmerized as I am by the visualizer in Windows media player. We can both sit for hours watching that stupid thing to our favorite songs. His seem to be the same as mine, coincidentally. My wife came into the room today and laughed at us because we were both just sitting here with a dazed look in our eyes staring at the monitor. I think it is cool.
I have a really bad feeling that the rest of my life is going to pass way too quickly.
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| God bless America |
| 08.11.05 (11:40 am) [edit] |
Okay, after a nice night of sleep and a normal day hard at work, I have had enough time to process my thoughts and feelings over the past couple of days. Now I get to give my big patriotic veiwpoint.
I must admit that I have taken the things that America has to offer for granted. I have always been patriotic, but never appreciated enough what we have here. As I sat at the funeral home for the past couple of days watching a family grieve the loss of their son/husband/father/grands on/brother/friend I was able to do a lot of thinking. I have never known anyone that has died in the service of their country until now, and I really wanted to take away as much as I could from this whole experience.
I thought about my own son, who is only four months old right now. I thought about how I would feel if that had been him who was killed. My mind would not even let me go there. I just couldn't let myself even imagine that kind of pain. I sat there, holding Abe, and really appreciating that I had him. I love this kid so much....I think you can only know that feeling if you experience it. Just like you can only know what losing that child would feel like by experiencing it also. I hope I never do.
This family is experiencing that right now. I thought about Brian's father and how he must be feeling. I wanted to do something, but there is nothing that can be done, other than be there with him. I must say, though, that he must have been a wonderful father. I think that you cannot measure your parenting skills by the grades your kid gets in school, or if he plays some sport exceptionally well, or by what college he gets into. I think you are graded on that day when your child is finally released into the world to take on things himself, without your guidance or influence. Its a measure of what kind of man he has become that will tell you if you have been successful or not. Is he going to change the world for the better? Even if it is just in a small way. Who cares if he goes to Harvard if he still turns out to be an ass hole? I think that Brian's father did a really good job. Those people (countless) didn't turn out for his funeral like that because they didn't admire and respect him. His father helped to bring two very capable and good men to carry on for him. One is gone now, but he became a man that everyone that knew him was proud of and happy to know. That is really saying something.
Then I went a little further and thought about how many other families have paid this kind of price. Not just now, but since the beginning of this country. Fighting so that people in the future could enjoy freedom. People they wouldn't even know. That is such a heavy price when you think about how many people have died over the years for this country. I think of myself also. I have spent time in the military...during a much safer time period. I think that I am still young enough that I could go back in if I wanted to. However, I cannot say that I am willing to pay that price any longer. I hate that I feel that way, and feel a little ashamed. If I had to die for my boy, I would do it in an instant, but if I could avoid the situation and enjoy a life with him, I want that more than anything. I don't want to miss anything, and I feel very selfish. Knowing how I feel, and also knowing that I would change my mind under the right conditions, I believe that in the past there have been men that have felt just like I do now, and they have encountered those conditions and went off to fight so that their children could live free. So, when I look at the flag, or hear a patriotic song, or breath this free air, I am thankfull to those men.
I think this war in Iraq needs to be fought. We need to kill these people who use terrorism to achieve their goals. I saw a bumper sticker..."God can judge the terrorists. It is up to us to arrange the meeting. USMC". That is good. We need to send as many of them off to meet their god as we can. My exwife is against this war. I know she votes, and the next time I see her I am going to ask her if she thinks terrorists have a right to operate. If she knew that terrorists were living in her neighborhood, planning to blow up polling places on election day, if they should be allowed to continue with their plans? If she says no, then I will want to know why we should allow that very same thing to happen in Iraq? Don't those people have a right to vote without fear of losing their life? The fact is that many of them voted even though they could lose their life!!!! How can anyone say that what we are doing there doesn't matter?
People talk about our soldiers dying and we should bring them back. I say that policeman die too, but no one says to stop fighting crime. The job isn't going to be finished until these people are permanently stopped, so we have to keep going. Our soldiers believe in this.
I guess that is all I have to say about that.
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| Ohio Marine, Brian Montgomery, funeral |
| 08.10.05 (3:40 pm) [edit] |
I was able to witness the funeral for Marine Brian Montgomery today. Brian was a member of a sniper team that was wiped out near Haditha, Iraq on August 1. I had only met Brian once, at a family dinner, so I cannot talk about him directly. I can talk about what I saw today, though.
Today I saw countless people turn out to pay respect to one of our troops. I do mean countless. The family met at the funeral home and prepared to go to the church. When the procession arrived at the church, there were marines, police, reporters, and...people everywhere. We entered the church and it was packed. They had reserved a large section for us and the honor guard, and once that filled up it was standing room only. This was no small church, either.
I watched and listened as family members talked about who Brian was. Many struggled to get out the words. Most passionate was Brian's brother, Eric, who was serving in Iraq with him. He told of the kind of brother Brian was to him, and told a few stories about things Brian had done in Iraq. The pride he had in his brother was overflowing. I think he could have talked for quite some time.
After the service the trip to the cemetary came. The line was massive. I could not even begin to guess how many cars there were. Police Cars, military vehicles, Vietnam vets on Harley's, you name it. They took a long route around Brian's stomping grounds. We drove around for an hour and a half. The thing that was significant about this was the people that lined the side of the road along the entire route. Imagine how far a car can travel in an hour and a half...average speed of about 20 miles per hour. Then think about how many people you could line up along that route. That is why they are countless. Some held flags, or signs. Some saluted. Others just watched and waited as the cars went by. Many had tears in their eyes. It was truly amazing.
At the gravesite was yet more honor. A two star general presented Brian's wife with his purple heart. That seemed pretty significant to me, especially since I had never seen a general at all, even during my four years in the military. The 21 gun salute made everyone jump. The playing of Taps made everyone cry. Watching the honor guard fold the flag that had draped Brians coffin made everyone proud.
These are just some of the things that I saw. I will have to add another post later on how it all made me feel. I am going to take a day or two to process it all in my mind and heart. One thing for sure is that I was honored to be a part of it and am so greatful for having been invited.
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| Marine killed in Iraq |
| 08.03.05 (9:29 am) [edit] |
Well, that war just got real close to home. One of the Marine snipers killed this week was my wife's cousin. I had only met him once, but he was a nice guy. Seemed fun. He had a little boy that was born just before he left to go over there. The boy turns one year old today. I think I feel most sorry for my wife's uncle, the Marine's dad. I think there is no getting over the death of your child...ever.
My boy is a little over four months old. I have hardly had him here long enough to know him, but when I think about something ever happening to him...the feeling is indescribable. It would put an empty space in my heart that would never be filled. My mind cannot even imagine that kind of pain, and I truly hope that I never have to feel it.
What can I say to that Marine's dad when I see him? There are no words or actions that I could possibly offer that could make even the slightest differance. I will be going to the funeral when they have it, but am dreading it. How could I not go and honor a man's memory who died for his country? I will feel very small and useless there, but I have a feeling I will be different when it is done. It is important that I see the people that have been affected and try to know and understand their sacrifice.
I have heard that he wanted to go over there, that he felt like it was his job to go. What a wonderful thing that is. To be willing to do that kind of a thing in the hopes of bringing freedom to people that you will never know. If people like him were not willing to do what they felt they needed to, what would the world be like today? What if people here in America, around 230 years ago, decided that the war they were fighting wasn't really important? Those guys didn't know me, but I am living free because of what they and others have done. Wouldn't it be awesome if, someday, the whole world could be as free as we are? I think that if my son were to die fighting to bring that about, while I would be more sad that I could probably handle, I would also be more proud of that than any other thing. If his efforts help in some way to achieve that, and someone asked me if it was worth the price, I think I would have to say yes. The cause for freedom is worth the price, but only if we press on and achieve that which we have set out to do.
I don't think there is much left for me to say except thank you, Brian P. Montgomery, for giving up everything for what you believe in. Thank you, to his family, for raising up a man willing and able to do the job needing done.
If you get the chance, make sure that the soldiers you come in contact with know that you appreciate what they are doing.
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| Too many Coronas... |
| 07.17.05 (3:49 am) [edit] |
Played golf yesterday. Now, in my world, playing golf is just an excuse for me to drink too much beer. Not to dissappoint anyone, that is exactly what I did. It was really hot, and apparently I was really thirsty. It made for a great game, though.
I made it through 6 holes before I couldn't hit the ball very well anymore, so I was allowed to just pick it up and throw it to where I wanted it to be. Then one of the guys was taking a leak and I decided to try to run into him with the golf cart. I missed him, but hit a pine tree dead on. My back hurts this morning. Don't know if that is why or not. Anyway, I was trying to wipe off the damage and I ended up with gooey sap all over my hands, and that stuff just doesn't come off. My hands were sticky for the rest of the day.
Then we saw a golf ball at the bottom of a deep ravine. I have climbed a mountain or two in my day, so that qualified me enough to climb down in there to get it. I ended up finding three balls, which exactly replaced the ones I had lost earlier. Luckiest man alive.
We took a break after 9 holes and the lady in the clubhouse told us that we weren't allowed to have glass bottles on the course. We acted stupid and told her we didn't know, sorry. I am not sure if she expected us to continue without our beer, but I was really thinking. I asked for a big cup of ice water and then just used that for my beer. Good thing. They sent some guy out to check on us and make sure we weren't using bottles.
Got home and my wife was mad because I was talking too loud, and then I fell asleep (she says passed out) on the floor. Woke up at three in the morning wide awake, but made myself go back to sleep. Not too hung over this morning. I think I am going to try to take a little nap and then work out later.
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| Becoming cultered |
| 07.10.05 (5:14 am) [edit] |
So today we all get to go to some art festival. Now, I am living near Youngstown, Ohio. Not exactly the center of culture, if you know what I mean. In fact, it doesn't seem to be the center of much anything, but it is home, so I stay here. But, if I didn't have so many nieces and nephews that I would like to watch grow up, I would move to Oregon in a minute. That's truly heaven out there. I digress....
Anyway, I have to go down to this art thing. Truth be told, I am sure I will love the whole thing, but the lazy man inside of me wants me to just sit around the house all day. I don't take many days off, and this is one of them. Fortunately, the lazy man is easily overruled by the other man who lives life to it's fullest and doesn't like to let an opportunity for something positive to pass by.
Of course, everything is timed around my breastfeeding son. He is an extremely pleasant baby, as long as he is fed well. In addition to every other trait, he has inherited the "crabby when hungry" personality. My wife will be feeding him at noon, and we will promptly be on our way.
Then I get to go and buy a new pair of shoes!! Now, I am a man, so this is not really exciting to me. However, I have turned it into a challenge. You see, my wife will be accompanying me to the store to buy these shoes, and they have lots of other things to buy (KOHL'S). My challenge is to walk out of that place with only a pair of shoes. I must prevent my wife from spending my hard earned money on things she surely does not need. I actually need these shoes. I won't buy them just to decorate the closet floor like she does. Of course, if I see a cool shirt on the 80% off rack I am cleared to splurge on myself.
I am so cheap when it comes to things like that. I figure why spend so much money on new clothes when you can find perfectly good ones at the thrift store? A lot of that has to do with the fact that I hate sleeves, so I tend to cut the sleeves off of as many shirts as I can. I don't care if I do look like a redneck (as my wife accuses me). I don't like sleeves and will do anything to avoid them.
Hmmm. I seem to be rambling. Better get on to bigger and better things.
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| How I know he loves me |
| 07.08.05 (4:26 pm) [edit] |
I have created this thing a while ago with the intent of putting down some of my thoughts. So far, I have been too lazy to do anything with it, but tonight I have a little time and figured I would go for it.
I am coming up on 40 years old...but I don't feel that old and surely don't look that old. The best thing going right now is that I have a four month old son, my first child. Let me just say that there truly is nothing like having that boy. I don't do very much with him yet, mostly because I don't have breasts, but I know he loves me. That is the coolest. He smiles when he hears my voice, especially when I call him "Palooka Joe" (not his real name). One of the things I do is take him up to bed every night. He is always asleep and being held by his mom and I will go and get him and carry him up stairs. On our way up he usually squirms and stretches a little and then quickly falls back asleep. I go into his room and sit down and rock him for a few minutes. While we are sitting there I will be looking at him. His little eyes will be opened just barely...tiny little slits that I am sure he can barely see through. I see these slits and I smile. Then he smiles back. Every night this happens! He doesn't open his eyes further or wake all the way up, but he gives me that one last smile for the day. Those smiles fill my heart. Nothing else in this world could make me feel that way.
I am currently teaching him how to sit by himself. I don't think he is quite ready for that yet, but he is very strong and I know that if I keep working with him he will get it soon enough. And, in this whole process I will expose him to the power of perseverance, even though he won't understand it yet. I figure that is one of the most important things I will teach him. There are a lot of things, but that is up there in the top ten. So, I let him sit there and maybe he will balance for a second before he goes all spastic. That is pretty good for a first try and I laugh and put him back in position and let him keep trying until I feel like he has had enough. He's gonna get it, and I am going to make him show everyone that comes to visit!
I am also trying to teach him to say "mama". I want him to call me "pop", mostly because I am kind of old and also because I think being called "pop" is cool. Every time someone says the word "daddy" I correct them. But, I want his first words to be mama, mostly because it will really make my wife feel good. I think those kinds of things mean more to her than to me, so she should have it.
I have never loved anything the way I love that boy, and when he gives me that sleepy smile at the end of the day, I know he loves me too.
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