Hm.. Nothing's going on in life so. That's why I'm writing and. Yup. (:
I wrote these a while go and I'm finally posting them.
Memory #2
I tell my daughter all my stories. I don't know, I feel like I have to tell her. She likes them, too. She's the closest thing I have to Casey... And she's probably the only person in the world that I love as much as I love Casey. And even though he's gone, I still love him. He's watching. Casey is just... Lost. He lost his way and he's coming back. He's just lost in heaven.
One story I told Tara about a million times is the one which was one of the most recent stories I have of Casey. It was when Tara was 4 and Casey was still alive... But first things first, we were both really young. Like in our early 20's. So, yeah, you can (try to) do the math (if you like).
It was when I was trying to make breakfast for everyone...
"Casey!" I called out. I was laughing because I was so pathetic. "Heeellp."
Casey came into the kitchen and started to laugh.
"Hey!" I said, defensively. "You know I suck."
"You don't suck." he said. He walked over to the stove and picked up a burnt pancake. "You're just...very bad at cooking."
"What? I hate making the stuff, I just eat it."
He laughed again. "Yup. I make it all and you eat it all."
"Mm hmm."
"Okay, someone else deserves a laugh. TARAAA! Come look at what your mother made you for breakfast! Mmmmh."
Tara came skipping in and them stopped. "It smells like poo poo pancakes." she said.
"Well, thanks." I said back.
"I want DADDY'S FOOD!" she whined.
"No, today you eat MOMMY'S!" I immitate-whined back.
"DAAAAAAAAADDYYYYYYYYYYYYY! THAT'S NOT FAAAAIR!"
"What's not fair?" I demanded. "I'm trying to improve my cooking skills."
"Are you trying to food poison poor Tara?" Casey asked me, smiling. I hmphed and turned away.
Casey walked up to me and put his arms around me, hugging me. "I love you."
I smiled. "I love you, too."
"Ewwwwwwww!" Tara cried out. "I don't want breakfast anymore!"
We ignored that, and Casey turned me around and kissed me. "From now on, stick to being a wife and mother and I'll cook. Capish?"
"Mm hmm..." I said. I could never get over his eyes.
He pulled me closer. "Guess what's in two weeks?"
"What?" I asked. I smiled. He knew I already knew, but he said it anyways.
"September 24..."
It was a pointless memory that lead into another memory about our anniversary on the 23rd of September.
But that was for another time..
Tell me if you like these stupid lame lamo cheesy stories.
Like my usage of meeeean insults? (stupid, lame, lamo)? I'm baaad to the bone.
