The Father Boy
ALA145'S CHAT. KTP divorce dead
"Maybe, I helped mediate and give your father advice for you to stay at Dinda's grandmother's house. How's it? You're brave? But there's a condition." Dad pointed his index finger.
"Bold, Dad. What condition?" The flowers look happy, the smile is beautiful.
"Dad wasn't a kid yesterday afternoon, so I understand and know what your habits are. If you live there, you should be able to stay away from adultery and do not invite outsiders to play in that historical house. How's it?" Dad raised his eyebrows.
"Well, I was determined to myself not to repeat my stupidity yesterday. Why do I often tell Bang Chandra or anyone that I don't care about them for reasons that belittle them, because I want to fortify myself. I am a woman who is easily tempted, easily carried away by the atmosphere and taste. I understand why your views on me are different, because it is my own actions that make you know my bad habits. But since I got divorced yesterday, I haven't had a boyfriend, a boy friend or anything like that. I know you may find it hard to believe again, but I promise you this time I'll take care of my spirit." There was no lie in his eyes.
"You once said, you're a grudge against men." Dad smiled slanted.
Fellow bastards are having a dialogue. I so chuckled, imagining how naughty my father and a Flower were.
"What's? My body problem? Wear halal clothes, I look haram, Dad. Because what? Since p****l I'm big, my waist is small. I also do not know, will be given a pear body shape like this. I've been given from the Power of Attorney I have p****l big and small chest, not me alone, or I deliberately consistent shape it in the gym. Yeah how, Dad?" The flower took a long breath.
Right, he's not wrong in this.
"Shar'i's clothes." Dad's spark was too pushy in my opinion.
"Sorry, Dad. I can't do that, my religion is not as strong as those who are berniqab." The flower lowered its head.
About the niqab, even the female teachers in my boarding school do not wear veils or large, black clothes. They wear Muslim women's clothing in general, but their veils cover their chests and their shirts always cover their back.
Niqab is not the identity of one's religious and religious knowledge, it is our choice from the heart and not by force. But according to our people, veiling seems to indicate the strength of one's religion. I don't know, that's just my opinion.
"The clothes are polite." I let out my opinion.
Stamp skirts, umbrellas or something that Flowers always wear. Not a sponge skirt, or a shaved skirt that is viral. A loose shirt has always been his outfit, but because he attended college and showed neatness. She always put her shirt in a skirt, letting everyone know if she is a woman who has a big p****l.
"Indeed, Bang. Put on a robe like this me, it still looks haram." Flowers justify my opinion.
It was not his fault to make him have such a beautiful body. Yes how? Indeed basically our eyes are the wrong men because of the equipment to everywhere.
"Just like kek biyung loh, Dad." My mother also has a prominent body shape because the fat is not flat.
"Yes too." Dad rubbed his nose.
"I have no power for that." Flowers massage their own temples.
"Yes, I went to your father's house first." Dad stood up straight.
"Well, don't tell me about me making a fuss with you." The flower knitted its brows.
"Remember, I'm good at talking and mahamin something."
Hey, I'm overconfident. The intelligence of the father is not actually conveyed to the biyung, they often argue because the biyung do not understand the intelligent intentions of the father.
"I believe in you." Flower Smile floating and beautiful.
"Jagain Biyung Bang. Tell Biyung, I'll take you again." Dad's gone.
"Ready, Dad." I give a quick salute to Dad.
"Bang, I'm gonna pay for the kiss." The flowers are far away.
He pointed his middle finger at her and was replied with a loose laugh, then I went to look for my mother. Beautiful offer, I'm afraid to take it upon myself. Because if I do, he'll laugh at me so contentedly.
Dad was really reliable to all things, he managed to talk about the matter of Flowers on Pakwa. Now, Bunga has officially become a resident of Dinda's grandmother's house.
He is not a grandson, not a step-grandchild, but just an adopted grandson. How do his grandchildren and step-grandchildren respond? Ordinary, they are not envious or angry to see the belongings of the Flower into the house full of our history of growth and development.
"Dude…." Kaf came to me at the fertilizer house.
There was a woman, who was hanging in her handsome motorcycle seat. The woman, one of her female friends, donated her blood to Izza.
"Why?" I opened the door wider.
I don't live here, but I'm here a lot. I just finished helping Flower move her things to the upper room of Grandma Dinda's house, then I went straight to the fertilizer house to pay attention to the workers who were ready to go home. He said that the room that Bunga occupied, was papa Ghifar's room first. The view is front yard, with a balcony that is so comfortable to hang out in the afternoon. Indeed, the room was a style of young people once, he was good at choosing a room.
But if I could stay there, I would choose a room that belonged to my grandmother and grandfather. Because what? Because the goods there are so luxurious with the classic style of royal style. The room is the most spacious and the walk in closet is the widest with complete furniture, clothes storage shelves, shoes, bags and so on are still there. However, the contents have indeed been distributed to grandchildren and daughters-in-law.
Our family never kept the stuff of people who were gone, to stay in the closet. Because it could be burdensome to count their treasures in the afterlife later. Counting, as a practice for the deceased and the deceased.
However, not seven straight days were taken as well as the Izza family's way. After a few months, seeing the house in need of repairs and we all started thinking about getting out the things that our grandmothers and grandfathers were wearing so as not to be a burden on them.
"KTPnya already so, I took in the village all I took mine. Brother just change the status, so no need to reactivate. I just had one, so all the activation was." Kaf gave me my ID.
Hm, divorce is dead. Twenty-two years as a widower, the widower was left dead.
"Here, Yang." Kaf invited the woman to enter this fertilizer house.
"Come in, in. Sorry, it stinks a little." I let the woman in.
He smiled kindly, then sat down next to Kaf. My thoughts were bad, I thought they were looking for a place to date.
"You're seventeen, Kaf?" tanyaku later.
"Nineteen, Bang. I was late recording it and it turned out to be a long time ago, I thought it was not important. Uh, but it's necessary at every event on campus." Kaf seemed to want to say something but his mouth was stiff.
I can read it on his face.
"Oh, yes. How many months is the same for Hadi?" I sat in an empty chair.
Fertilizers are stored in two rooms and in the living room. Some of them are in the kitchen because the kitchen is quite spacious. The living room and one front room for my rest were deliberately not placed fertilizer.
"Yes, Bang." Kaf seemed to be talking to the look in his eyes with the woman.
What's up, huh?
Do you really need a dating place? Room so? Or a private room for perverts?
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