I've never enjoyed All Saints Day before. I usually spend it at home or at work. This year however, having a regular day job, I can finally relate to long weekends and holidays. Last night I said, "I miss eating your home cooked spaghetti and some chocolates after". And he said he'll make me spaghetti tomorrow, and that is today.
I never liked spaghetti, I think spaghettis are boring, like popcorns. Since childhood, every kiddie party I go to never misses a spaghetti, this Italian dish has no effect on me, not nostalgic. Until one day, when he cooked tuna spaghetti with sweet tomato sauce. That day I will never forget, how he stood there topless, incorporating the sauce putting some love potion perhaps, because from that day on, I fell in love with his spaghettis.
Today, he made me another spaghetti and some french fries that he boiled first, sprinkled with salt and pepper and then fried them to perfection.
As I put the food in my mouth I said, "Marry me now." and in my mind I said, "I can no longer part with you."
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