When I was little mum put me in a box. I knew the face allot. I was a tiny little boy lying in my bed with tiny little matchsticks marking what I want. Mum was very tired she took me home I cried and cried then I felt her cover me kisses.
I heard my mums soft voice, I heard her little mumbles and mostly of all I saw her very kind face. She marked little pegs on the washing line. Dad was different he was growly and unfair he didn't like kids he growled at them. In return kids banged their fists at my dad. Then lastly the yelled at him for leaving lines on the chairs.
Now I go to school my teacher is quite good my dad thinks it is nice to see now grubby kids. My dad really loved me when I turned 9 he said I was intelligent and he didn't like me to go. He seemed to love others but he loved me most of all.
Now I am 14 my parents still love me, I hear what they say to me and what they mean. They praise me on homework, they hug me still and they are never to busy for me1
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