Tuesday, May 14

papa k.

dear sweet anar
a few nights ago; your papa read you a book. once the story had ended, your papa shut the book, turned to mama and asked curiously, "are these authors on drugs?", to which your mama burst out into giggles. a few hours later, your papa fell into slumber with his arm cradling you like a protective, iron grip and your mama later remarked to me, "oh great, now i don't get anymore cuddles." 

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