On my way to bed tonight, I was thinking of you as I climbed the stairs. The temptation to check in on you was great. Why do I still miss you when you are sleeping?
Dad told me that you cried for me in the car tonight. You must have known I would not be there, but perhaps your desired closeness overwhemed your memory.
P.S. I love our new nightly ritual: robot stories. More on that soon.
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