I am lying down on the crib, staring the ceiling. "Daddy" is yet to come and wake me up. I miss how daddies used to wake me up, slowly rubbing my tummy or my bums if I was sleeping on my stomach. Then they would pick me up and I would nuzzle into his neck still half asleep. Both of them smelled so good. I am scared that I will forget the little things that I associate with them. How they smell, how they hold my hand gently into theirs. The way they tickle me to make me laugh when I am sulking or how they first thing they did was kiss my lips when I was pouting.
Ron is good. He hasn't hurt me apart from the one time he slapped me earlier. I don't be naughty so he hasn't had the chance to punish me yet, that, however, is going to change soon I suppose. I have been with him for a few days n
