I remember when my daughter turned ten years old.
I was sitting at home in my apartment. My former wife didn’t want me to see her, but I kept getting the call from my daughter asking when I was coming over.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I couldn’t come. That her mother didn’t want me there.
I knew that I couldn’t do that to my daughter. I had to be there.
I didn’t have any money for a present for her, but I knew that I had to figure something out. I had to give her something.
So I came up with a plan. I was going to the toy store without anything, and I was going to leave with something, something that she would like.
I entered the store, wearing nice clothes so that none would suspect me, and I walked around for a while looking at all the dolls that they had. I knew I had to get something small, something that I could carry with me without anyone noticing it.
Finally, I made my choice, and I put the doll in my pants, and I headed for the door.
But one of the store clerks saw me, and I took off running. I got in my car and drove off, leaving the store security guard standing in the parking lot.
I saw the balloons outside my ex’s house, and I knew that my daughter would be happy with the gift I had gotten for her.
My ex looked at me when I got through the door, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to seem like the bad guy in front of my daughter and her friends.
I remember that my daughter jumped up and down before I give her a hug and the doll I had stolen.
And I remember how happy she was.
Then I remember the lights outside the house and the police coming in to grab me.
They grabbed me in front of my daughter, on her birthday, and dragged me to jail.
I can remember how my daughter didn’t understand what was happening and my ex picked her up and took her into another room with her friends.
And then I remember crying myself to sleep because I knew that I had done wrong.
And I was never going to get a chance like that with my daughter again.
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