“It isn’t fair,” Julie pouted.
“What isn’t fair?” her mother asked, threading her knitting needle.
“Life,” she sighed, slumping into the big recliner.
“Oh. Is that all?”
Julie’s mother barely even looked up from her half-moon glasses; it made Julie upset.
“Is that all? Is that all?” She cried, building up steam like a big balloon.
Julie’s mother aimed her needle at her. “Life happens,” she said.
Pop! Just like that, Julie’s temper was deflated.
“It’s not like you’d understand anyway,” she threw herself back onto the chair. It wobbled and she threw her arms down to stabilize it. Phew!
“No, I guess not.” Her mother said, finishing one line and starting the next.
“It’s just that I wanted Paul to ask me to the dance and he asked Rita and Rita’s my best friend but not anymore because she’s a big jerk and she knew I liked him but she went and said “yes” anyway even though we made a double-secret pact with a secret handshake and friendship rings and everything and I HATE HER!” She had been beating on the comfy chair. Now that the rant was over, Julie was panting heavily. “I hate her…”
Julie’s mother set down her needles. “Come here.”
While reluctant at first, her mother’s arms looked too inviting to pass up. She got up from the chair and settled into her mother’s bosom. “It’s just not fair, Mommy,” she whimpered.
“I know, honey. I know,” she said, stroking her hair for a minute. At the end of the sixty or so seconds, Mother asked, “Do you feel better?”
“Good, because my legs are falling asleep.” She gave a gentle push and Julie slid off her lap, dropping to the floor in a tangled heap. She sprung up, giggling.
“How about we go out and get some ice cream?”
“Really?” she jumped in for a hug, knocking her mother back on her tush. “You’re the best, Mom!”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”