He has four grown daughters. Two aren’t blood related but they call him dad anyway since he married their mom when they were just toddlers. The other two came along a few years later; one, a splitting image of himself, poor girl, and the other, stuck with the same quiet personality and the shitty jokes. They hardly ever call because he hardly ever calls them, they’re so busy, he can’t decide when’s the right time. At night, though, he kisses his new wife and takes out his new family, all boys of course: Jose, Jack, Johnnie and Don. They’re the ones he prefers the most because they’re the ones who always wait eagerly on their shelf for his return. sixsentences.blogspot.com