"Daddy!"
I turned three years old, and while I could speak, my pronunciation was still a bit shaky.
"Who's this?"
"Mammy!" I pointed and said, and she hugged me with tears in her eyes.
That's just how much she adored me.
So, why do I call my parents "Daddy" and "Mammy"? They thought it would be easier for me to learn, and also, it was their dream to call each other "Daddy" and "Mammy." They're truly a loving couple.
As for why I say "-san," it's because my parents still felt a bit shy calling each other just "Daddy" and "Mammy," so they often used "-san" to address each other. I must have picked that up.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
In the evening, "Daddy" came home.
"Welcome back!" "Mammy" greeted him.
"Oh, that's not fair! You're hugging Yume! Let me hold her too! I'm back! It's Daddy!"
...Was he tired at all?
Dinner was my favorite: spaghetti with meat sauce.
I got fed alternately by Daddy and Mammy. Normally, kids my age would be eating with their own forks, making a mess on their faces and clothes. But my parents were so indulgent with me that they were happy to keep feeding me.
"Daddy" gave me a bath.
He washed me carefully and took great care of me, almost to an unusual degree.
Once I got out of the bath, "Mammy" would dry me off. She did it so gently, and even put baby oil on me. It was like I was being pampered all the time.
When it was time to sleep, "Mammy" read me a picture book.
The book she had was quite old and tattered, but she said,
"I don't know why we have this book here."
That night's story was "Momotaro."
Listening to Mammy's gentle voice, I drifted off to sleep.