This is my love.

Today I reminisced about what I thought what love was.

I thought about these things...

Yellow Volkswagen Beetles.

Love Poems.

Pancakes.

Foot Massages.

Service.

I thought about anyone can do anything...

Early morning blasted music.

Singing your heart out.

Pepsi, Pain Brie, and Feta cheese.

Charles Aznavour and they Gypsy Kings.

Doing the twist!

You are probably asking yourself... How is this love?

There once was a man who married a girl. Their very first vehicle was a brand new yellow volkswagen beetle. They were quite the happy couple. The girl taught at a school in another place, so she would be gone M-F and then be back on the weekends. This man didn't waste any love time. He would write her love poems all week long. And she always came and left knowing she would return to lovely love scripts.

As time moved on, they came to a realization that they did not want to spend so much time apart. So they moved to a far away land. Their family soon grew bigger and bigger with children. The girl had the magic cooking touch, a specialty that is still loved dearly today... pancakes. More than anybody else, they boy loved these pancakes, and insisted she make them every Saturday. So most Saturdays the big family would enjoy dozens and dozens of those delicious pancakes. Soon time moved on once more, some of the children moved away and married. But  few remained at home. One of these kids remembers her daddy coming home from work, and he'd ask for a foot massage. The little girl would do it, hesitantly. But would it woud be done. The boy who had now become a grown boy was quite the character. Early Saturday mornings he would blast some Charles Aznavour or some Gypsy kings and he would sing the house down! The kids didn't always enjoy it. But it didn't matter to him. Sometimes the grown boy and the now grown girl would play some Teen Tops and do the twist in the kitchen. And their kids would laugh and enjoy it. This man was amazing. He did have an addiction. Pepsi, Pain Brie (bread) and feta cheese. Delicious!

This is the story of my Mama and my daddy.

I had the best. I remember getting home from work or school, and my dad would have me sit next to him on the couch and I'd get a foot massage. I remember telling him several times that I wanted to do things, but I just couldn't. And he would tell me everytime I could do whatever I wanted. He was proof of this, my dad can do just about anything you can think of! I remember doing services for people in our ward, or anyone and we hated it. But service is now something that I feel I must do. As I have grown, everything that reminds me of the love that my parents had for one another, or that I felt in my family, I want to continue.

I want a yellow volkswagen beetle more than any car on this planet. I want to come home from work and receive foot massages, while drinking an ice cold Pepsi eating Pain Brie with crumbled Feta cheese while listening to Charles Aznavour. I want to make my significant other pancakes every Saturday morning. I want to wake up to loud beautiful music and loud singing from a man who loves me. I want my signifcant other to have this undying passion to want to serve the world!

The end.