even when there were his friends around, I’d clamber onto his lap, tug his shirt and ask when we could go home. my dad would look at me and say, “soon.” and I could shyly stay near him, playing with his jacket as he talks to the adults.

my eyes would droop, and the carpet looked so comfy. I’d drop down, curl up and sleep. I could feel my mom pick me up, carry me to my room, and tuck me in with a kiss.

indeed these were the golden days. the prime times in our life, nurtured and loved.

those were the days I was truly happy and I understood nothing.