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I'm sitting in the chair in our bedroom typing this, watching Kate on the bed, our son Kyle at her breast. I'm smiling, considering how I almost cost myself the bliss I am now feeling.
"Are you still typing our story, Honey?" Kate asks with a smile.
"As we speak."
"You know, you're going to have to clean that up a bit if you ever want our children to read it."
"I reckon I will at that."
Kate rises up, laying a sleeping Kyle down in his crib. She gets back into bed and holds a hand out to me.
"Come to bed, honey. Come to bed, and let's make another part you can leave out of the kid's version of us," she says with a smile.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 4 years agoi dont mean i dont believe it, i mean, its a glorious piece of writing, thank you, im an emotional old man and i had few tears at the end, keep writing these stories , fantastic
