You're Just Like Papa Novels & Stories

Just like my father. I can’t quite prevent my lower lip from trembling when I whisper, “You’re the same as the rest of them.”

I questioned. “That fake smile crap,” Papa advised. “I learned it from you,” I smirked. “I think that’s why we butt heads so much,” Papa stated. “You are your father’s daughter.” “Yes, I am,” I agreed. “I don’t like to be told what to do, just like you.” “Yep, just like your father,” Papa laughed and stood up to leave. “I’ll behave, don’t worry,” I informed him. “I know,” Papa grinned. “Hey, is there a problem with your phone?”

He continued, “.....so-” “You look just like your dad but your attitude is a mystery to me.” Papa interrupts. “I do wonder where you get your mouth from.” “Do you?” Dad asks sarcastically. Papa nods, “I do.”

Justin amusedly exclaimed, remembering how naughty their papa was during his university days. "Papa tamed dada and dada tamed papa from his casanova life. They are perfect for each other" Zack added. "Zack?" Justin called again. "Yes, Justin?" "Did it ever occur to you, we might also have the same special love just like papa and dada?" Justin asked out of nowhere which made Zack look at him. Zack instantly fell into deep thoughts. Justin becomes quiet while waiting for Zack to say something. "If ever I will have our fathers' special love, I will be proud of it Zack, I will be brave just like papa and dada" Justin continued when Zack remained to be quiet.

He nodded at Mommy and walked away. I heard her sigh as she sat back down, rubbing her eyes. "Mommy, why does Papa have to go away so often?" "It's his work, baby. Your papa is a very busy man. He has a lot to do." I sought comfort in my mother's arms once again, climbing onto her lap. With a tired yawn, I rested my head on her shoulder, feeling a sense of serenity wash over me. "I want to be like Papa," I murmured, my voice filled with admiration. "He's so strong, and everyone respects him. I want to be tough like him."

I guess I will stop here, else you tell me one of your problem. Don’t be sad about the fact that I don’t have a mom, just letting you know in case you want to cry. I know you are a cry baby. So save the tears because there is actually something more sad than that, but I will keep it till you tell me one of problem. And if your problem is worth it, then I will shoot. Yeah, so the one I want to know first is why you hate you papa this much? Ps: do me a favour, cross out “ everything is going well for you” it’s a very wrong statement on my path.

“Yes, I realized it late I should have said something when your mother always controlled you but I didn’t, I always supported her but I’m happy you found your voice, I know you are going to be a better person without her meddling in your affairs.” “Thank you, papa, that means a lot.” I smile. “Don’t worry she will come around, she will realize she was wrong.” “Has Mama always been like this?” “She wants to be like this until you were born, I guess she is protective of you,” Papa says. “I trust you to take care of yourself.” “I will papa, I will make both of your proud.” “I know,” Papa says hugging me. At least someone understands me, I truly expected him to get mad but he didn’t.

I am already thinking that you're my son. ​"But, if you were my Dad, I would hate you. Like, literally. Daddy Jaydee is the best, can't replace him, sigh!"

Minutes passed before he let me go, and when he finally did, his hands lingered on my face, tracing the lines of my cheeks, as though memorizing me. “You look so much like my mother,” he said, his voice thick with nostalgia. He pressed a kiss to my hand with a reverence that nearly broke me. “It’s good to have you back.” Emotion swelled in my throat, making my words waver. “Thank you, Papa. It’s good to see you.” He burst into laughter, deep and hearty, his frail frame shaking with it. “I like it,” he said, his eyes bright like a child’s. “Papa sounds far better than Grandpa. I like Papa.”

I carried my canvas and ran to him. "Look, it's mom," I said. Papa smiled at me and took the canvas. He stared at it for minutes, and his eyes formed tears. Papa's eyes are blue, so if he cries, his eyes are like diamonds. Just like mine. "You really look like your mom," papa said and kissed my forehead. Thank goodness he forgot about the annoying girl at daycare. "By the way, did you say sorry to the girl you just smooched?" Uh-oh.