Daddy (the middle-aged has been, not my father) still thinks he’s hot. He isn’t but he smells wonderful. He smells so wonderful that if I were a vampire I’d sink my teeth into his neck. Actually I want to do that anyway whenever I get a whiff.
So I’m packing right now and I keep thinking about him and do you know why? Hmmm?
It’s because I asked him to save boxes for me and even though he only held the boxes a few minutes, they smell like him.
I need to find another source of packing materials.
The Witchcraft of FreeDragon
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