Duncan Cyrus, age 21, Dad's Friend
I have met many of my parents' friends in my life. Some have even babysat me. One in particular was, at the time, Mrs. Crenshaw, Darla is her first name. When I was little I liked hugging into her body. She was soft and cuddly. She read me stories, taught me cooking, and taught me the piano. I'm only good at the basics. Over the years, before I whisked off to college, I would randomly visit her or she'd come by the house. In my teen years she would linger on her hugs. Didn't mind me because she always smelled nice.
She had one child who is a couple years older than I. A boy whom I never got along with; even to this day. By the time I graduated highschool she and her husband had divorced. The once nicely thick shaped lady had gained quite the few amount of pounds during that trying time I was told. She remained her nice nurturing self, but maybe a little more blusterous. Can't say I liked her husband all that much and neither did my pops.
So, one day, on my spring break, I received a message on Facebook from Ms. Wallace, Darla's maiden name. She said she was on vacation for a couple of weeks and decided to travel. She had been visiting old friends and family. She found me on Facebook. I messaged back to catch up and see how her life was going. Her son apparently had gotten married and had a kid. She was in between boyfriends. She asked where I lived and I told her. She said she wanted to come visit me for a day or two. I agreed because I had nothing else to do.