"Cooking until you're starving like this? I'm sorry, Inez, maybe she doesn't understand," said Dad. I am okay.
"Haduuh... Dad, Mom, he's the only one who's stupid. We have a lot of snacks in the car," I said.
"Humm ... Did you see me eating in the car? I'm obeying you. Wait until the restaurant," he explained.
"Eh! Come on, it's... Alright, let's have dinner now, Mother has cooked a special request from my beautiful daughter. Chicken Opor and fried liver sauce are her favorites." Mother called us, who were still chatting, to our dining room.
As usual, I enjoyed the dinner more quietly, while he? Still joking and telling a lot about us there. Like it's his job? After all, it was me who lived? It was as if he had managed to take care of me while working there. As if he knew everything about my activities. All stories are his version, I have no chance to tell anything. Let the important thing I have many stories and memories with Arman.
