My Daddy Thinks I’m His Wife

My daddy thinks I’m his wife

My daddy is a handsome, reliable, generous, talented and compassionate man. He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t hide his tears while watching romantic comedies. He comes every evening with flowers in hands, doesn’t forget birthdays, anniversaries, and buys gifts. He is helpful, loves everyone, never fights or even yells.

But all these positive add’s didn’t prevent such an ideal husband from being abandoned. All the few women in his life left him, including my mom.

Why do women leave such a perfect man? I think I know the answer now.

They were arguing with my mom before they left. More precisely, mom was yelling at dad and dad was crying silently.

“Not enough, do you understand, Daniel!” mom was saying. “That little pickle of yours doesn’t feed my hungry bunny! I’m hungry, Daniel! I want a thick, hard, powerful locomotive to crash into my tunnel. I want a brutal animal to destroy in my garden. A dynamite to burst my barrage! A grizzly bear in my cave! A sledgehammer to destroy my wall! I don’t want a slight dizziness, I want to lose mind and faint. Do you understand me, Daniel? Don’t cry! Answer me!”

My poor, melancholy dady, crying with snot running from his nose, could only stutter out, “I… love you, Ashley…”

“I can’t spend a lifetime with your little sausage, Daniel. I’m sorry but it’s the truth. You’re a good man, but it’s not enough. Please understand me…” was determined to end this marriage.

They broke up after a fight that evening. Anyway, I chose to stay with dady and mom left us. Dad was a wonderful man with big heart and tiny penis, I felt sorry for him.

Our evenings are quiet now.

I was playing computer games in my room. I was a silly princess among sword-wielding heroes, dragons, and zombies, the blue light of the monitor lighting my face and colorful shadows roaming the walls of my dark room.

I heard daddy crying in his room. He misses wife, who left him for a thick salami. My with little carrot daddy’s heartbroken and unhappy. I couldn’t accept that he was unhappy.

My inner voice; forget the game! Get up and go to daddy! He needs solace, said. And, In the dim light, I saw a miserable, unhappy man among old photographs thrown on the bed. The intense smell of alcohol burned my nose. I looked at the empty whiskey bottles in the bedroom and thought that he drank until was drunk every night.

I went to him and sat on the bed.