I am supposed to be good with dates.

She said damnit. You're a freak.

I could remember dates really well. I remember those days that are important to me, those days that I constantly play over in my head again and again. Those days I'll never forget. Oh, but sometimes I just forget the dates and it agitates me so. Like now.

What was the date, hmm? May something, was it not? A day, which I could say, was rather memoriable and pretty much wonderful and almost, magical. I liked the big chair and the horsey! And running our hands through the different jeans of different sizes. That was fun.

I can't remember the date. Do you remember, to be begin with?