'Watch your mouth, Taylor; I am your father, not one of your little friends.' The moment the words entered Brenden's and my minds, the two of us looked at each other and smiled with reminiscent expressions.
'Damn, I haven't heard that in years,' Brenden said as he thought back to all the thousands of times that catchphrase had been used on us growing up.
'I know, right? It really takes you back, any little reason or witty remark we had as kids, and BOOM, I'm not one of your little friends, HEH, as if I had friends, to begin with.' I chimed in before my thoughts were interrupted by a thump in the back of my head.
'Hah, fucking loner, unlike you, I had PLENTY of friends,'
'Sure, whatever you say,'
'I can hear you remember, and I will not stand for being called a horn dog; I am clearly a gentleman.' My father stated with crossed arms and defiance in his voice…er…mental voice.
