His birthday's on the 8th of September, one day after mine. We lived together; his mum and he having moved in with my dad and I. We squabbled, naturally, like brothers do, but he was company, and together with his mum they gave me what resembled a family.
I was not particularly fond of combing my hair back then, and it was his mum who convinced me to do so, appealing to my vanity by saying that combing my hair would make it nice and shiny. She smirked to my dad when I bought the argument. Never do that in front of a kid, you insult his intelligence.
Anyway, she turned out to be a psycho who socked my dad under his eye after which he gave her a solid blow to the stomach. Such temper =)
That was the end of my pseudo family, and it was back to dad and I till he got his next girlfriend, but never as attached as he was to the crazy lady. He never seemed to learn though, and got involved with a few other ladies of dubious sanity. Tsk.
And now, I'm 23. Many thanks to my friends who made my birthday week special. Thanks for the gifts, thanks for the drinks, thanks for the company =) =)
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