Worst father ever, even in dreams

Samantha woke up this morning loudly declaring “my one. MY one. MY ONE.” When I went in to see her, she looked directly at me and said it again.

“What one, darling?”

“My lollipop.”

“What about your lollipop, sweetie?”

“YOU ATE IT.”

“…”

“And Zachary, too.”

I don’t know if she means that I ate Zachary as well in her dream or whether he merely participated in the sweet-theft, but I’m certainly not going to ask.

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