Please, as if I would have done something like this for any reason other than I wanted to. I wanted to help you, I'm fond of you as a person, and I think you're incredibly attractive; that's all the reason we need.

I'm just old-fashioned. But I'll adapt. Especially if we can do this after, every time. [Having an actual outlet for all of his ridiculous affection is a very, very nice dream, and one that'll keep him from momming absolutely fucking everyone else. Get a little spooning, a little cheek-smooching, a little dumbshit goofy smiling in now, don't try to get your friends other friends like an embarrassing mother arranging marriages online.]

...My girls will adapt, too. And I think he'll do a great job with them, since they won't fart on his face or pull his hair out. He can bring them over every other weekend for custody visits, too. No worries. ...Did he ever tell you about Iggy? I should tell you about him and Iggy, hah.