Para Mi Hijo Novels & Stories

*** I am the child, I'm the one who is embarrassed😂😂 They parents are so. Eeeekkkk Not bored yet, right? See you 💋💋💋💋.

"Bro, shut up. I'm in." "Really? Oh, thank you..." "Not for you or the fucking plan. For Hero." If I can't do this for my son, then at least I can fucking do it for my nephew.

Hello everyone iam Rishi iam the only son to my parents I never seen my mom as she was died when Iam born my dad he loves me a lot but he never had time to take care of his child he is busy with his business i grown with baby sitters and maids so i never known what is meant by love infact I don't believe in love I love to have fun that's it

I rake my hand through my hair and hesitate. “Ah, you’re shy aren’t you? Okay no big deal just have fun and dad, wrap it up. Even your old tadpoles can still impregnate.” He leaves me standing with my mouth gaping open, my jaw almost to the ground. What did he just say? Is my own kid giving me birth control advice? Jesus. Now I feel even worse.

I understand the disease, the therapies, the survival rates, and the brutal uncertainty that comes with them. But none of that knowledge makes this easier… because this time the patient is not someone else's child. I brush my thumb gently across Maya’s knuckles, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers. “Mommy…” She murmurs faintly. “I’m right here, my bird,” I whisper softly. Her face relaxes again, and she drifts deeper into sleep. For the transplant, we need a donor. A perfect match… and time may or may not have. My eyes close briefly as the thoughts begin to circle again.

A father's image is crucial to children. Before going to sleep, Min turned to me and said, "I can understand you, Mom, but I'm not sure if Dad can."

"So what am I supposed to be known for?” "Being the son of people who changed the world," I said. "That's not mine," he said. "That's yours." I sat with that. There was nothing I could honestly say that would make him wrong, and pretending otherwise would only insult him. He was ten years old and he wasn't wrong, and the specific grief of watching your child articulate something accurate and painful was its own kind of thing I had no preparation for. "You're right," I said. "That's mine. So what's yours?"

I take the gun he hands me, nod at what he says, and lean back in my seat. Although what Palmieri says relieves me a little, I can't help but remember the pain I suffered more than a year ago. I hope my children don't have to suffer again if something happens to me, given that their father doesn't even remember us, and with how things are going, I doubt he will. I shed a few tears and turn towards the window so they don't see me crying.

My God! “Have you ever flown?” “No.” “You'll like it.” he says, smiling. “Where are we going?” “Spend a few days in Italy, and then we'll be back.” “You don't live there?” “No. I have many properties. We are going there to meet my son, and we will be back in a few days.” “Son?” I ask, choking. It was just what I needed! I don't know how to deal with children! They are always combing and driving people crazy! I have no patience for that!

said my son, accompanied by a soft laugh. I took him to the living room, where the toys that Martin had just bought were scattered. Martin is better at convincing a kid than me. Well, honestly, I don't really know how to be a father to my child. I just talk to him like a person of my age. I call him a kiddo but definitely don't know what a kid really means. All I know is that he is my son, I love him, I have to provide for his needs, and I have to obey what he wants sometimes.