Those were beautiful days. Full of an innocence that calls
me back to remember. I remember the instances he knocked at my zipper, hoping
for a little attention. I felt bad, but there were some times when I just had
to ignore him. He liked bubble baths and would peek in and out of the clumps of
bubbles. Sometimes he would wake me up at night and we’d play together. He
wasn’t proud and would gladly take a helping hand from me.
We went on Boy Scout camping trips together--not always a
good idea because he was shy. He never won any of the contests for height,
endurance or productivity, but that never bothered either of us. And I fondly
remember pleasant times when we would look at Playboy centerfolds together.
We got along well. In fact, we loved one another. Even to
this day, though he doesn’t come up to his former standards, we remain a pair.
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