I like to think of the time when I was a child. I remember a house full of love. In the evenings, I used to sit on my father’s lap in the living room. I would tell him everything that happened in school, I would sing the songs I had just learned or show him my coloring book. I was so proud when I could write the word bapak for the first time. I showed it to him and I remember that he was also very proud of me.
Sometimes my father had to work late or was out of town on business. Then I would sit with my mother, who used to read me stories from one of my favorite storybooks. Or we would watch television together and she would patiently answer all my questions.
But what I liked best were Sunday mornings. On Sundays, my parents used to wake up late, but I liked to get up early. I would slip into their bed and cuddle up between them. Sometimes I would doze off. But at other times I would just lie there and think of the wonderful things we would do later in the day. Those were such happy moments.
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