<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">Myxi looks at Luka. Luka looks at Myxi. Then they notice Isa and grin. Silencing their mind talking. Not even their daddy knew yet they could do that. Then again they also knew he was barely functioning as it is. They also knew...Ms. Parisa just made an error telling him he wasn't taking care of himself. In his mind he was. He was doing what a father was supposed to do. The children first and himself last should there be time.</span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Myxi looks at Isa. "Toys?" she echoes. Looking interested for real now. She noms(eats) away at her sandwich. Looking at Isa expectantly. "Dolls?" she asks in a small hopeful voice. She reaches into the pocket she'd stuck the tiny doll her daddy made her(see included pic A) She shows it to Isa. "Daddy make." she says. Trying to shyly show her the small porcelian doll that her father had made himself from scratch.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Luka looks at her. "TOYS??? AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he exclaims in delight. Finishing off his food so fast he started hiccuping. He looks at Isa. "I'm Luka. My sister is Myxi." he says happily. "We're done. Toys now?" he asks hopefully. "Daddy made me something too. He made me a pan flute.(see included picture B) I'll show it to you. I like music a lot. Daddy is teaching me to play. I can play Twinkle Twinke Little Star." he says in a proud voice. As if playing that one song was the biggest achievement of his life. Which since he was a very young child...at the moment...it was.</span><br/><br/>Jason tilts his head to the side. "Education? I can't afford them education. So I have been teaching them the best I can." he says honestly. Having regained energy enough to talk. Coughing hard another trickle of blood escapes down the side of his mouth. He wipes it away again. He could hear his children. They were happy at least. That was all that was important. That was all that mattered in the long run. "They aren't five yet either." he says protestantly.<br/><br/>"They need to be around other kids. Not in a uniform school. They would hate that. Expecially Luka." he says. Ignoring her comment about himself. Til he answered her question. "They have basic knowledge. Luka is a fast reader and thrives in literature things. Myxi has dislexyia and as such struggles with words and numbers. Yet she doesn't like being treated differently due to this." he sighs. "Had them in preschool til the funds ran out." he pauses and says under his breath. "Since the ex didn't leave me with much at all...less than a grand I think." he mutters.<br/><br/>He realizes she was staring at him. "School for them. I am perfectly fine." he says. He shakes his head. "I am taking care of what is far more important Miss Parisa. My children come first and foremost. Myself is last if there is time, money, or food left over. Myself is not the important factor. Besides...why would you even care?" he says stubbornly. And asks in an edgy tone. "You dislike me and think I'm a playboy player remember?" he says icily.<br/>(picture A)<a class="postlink" href="http://i833.photobucket.com/albums/zz260/TimeKeys/My%20album/image046.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/>(picture B)<a class="postlink" href="http://i833.photobucket.com/albums/zz260/TimeKeys/stock-photo-peruvian-pan-flute-or-pipe-isolated-over-white-53783218.jpg">[ img ]</a>