As far back into my childhood as I can remember, my dad would leave early for work on Friday mornings so he could go to the donut shop to buy donuts to bring home and leave on the stove for us to wake up to.
I don’t even care that that is a run-on sentence.
I’m sad and haven’t left my house all day.
After declining a dinner invitation, my dear friend showed up at my door with this:
I didn’t even care about the mess.
I miss my dad.