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Chapter 16

June 2001

"No running up the steps, Champ!"

"Keep up old man!"

I giggle as I run up the steps to our apartment. The simple, two bedroom apartment has been home to us for as long as I can remember.

"Boy, stop running!" My father yells from behind as he carries the groceries.

I turn to blow my dad a raspberry before ignoring what he said by continuing my running. I'm a big boy; I won't hurt myself. He needs to chillax as he would say. It's just a few more steps until I'm at the top.

My tiny legs continue to push forward, step by step. Tiny giggles escape my lips. It's amazing how simple things can keep us entertained as kids. Alas, I'm near the top step. One leg moves in front of the other when...

... I fall flat on my face.

I slowly get up with my bruised palms; there's a scrape on my shin. And there's blood! There's blood coming out of my leg! I feel tears forming in my eyes that I try to hold back because big boys don't cry. Big boys also shouldn't run up the steps.

My hands move to cover my face in embarrassment when I feel the wetness. I quickly jerk my hands away and realize there's blood on one of my hands.

"I'm bleeving from my face!" I cry out.

My father, whose watching with amusement, places the groceries on the ground before scooping me up. He uses his thumb to wipe away some of the blood from my cheek.

"It's bleed-" he looks into my crying eyes, "Not the time from a grammar lesson. Right." He sighs softly. "You'll be okay son. You just have a few boo boos on your cheek and shin, but it's nothing a big boy like you can't handle."

I continue to cry into his arms as he prepares to carry me and the groceries into our home. I sniffle into his shoulder as he opens the door, sets the groceries down, and totes me to the bathroom. He places the lid down on the toilet, sets me on top of it, and washes his hands.

"You didn't warm me of a boo boo!" I squeal as he takes out the peroxide to clean my wound.

Dad kneels in front of me with a gentle smile. "You should trust me when I tell you not to do certain things."

I defiantly cross my arms over my chest, still sniffling from my cries. I'm a big boy and I'm mad, dang it.

"I don't tell you things to control you. I tell you things to protect you." He ruffles my hair before placing a kiss on my shin; I giggle. "Daddy is sorry for not properly warning you. Do you forgive me?"

"Only if you make me chocolate cupcakes."

"Fine then Birdie Jr." We both laugh. "Better yet, how about I finally teach you our family's chocolate cupcake secret recipe?" I immediately jump off the toilet, grabbing his arm to drag him towards the kitchen.

"Family's secret recipe so strong, it instantly cures ouchies," he jokes.

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February 2002

"Oh Jungwookie?"