The Apple of My Eyes

There were days when she complained and never stopped.  She laughed remembering those days.  The kid, a decade younger, were a package full of characters.  She couldn't be more than amused to learn how they brushed her with all kinds of emotions.  

Emotions.  She was nevertheless angry at most times.  She erupted when things got out of control, but there were times she exploded without warning.  She was pretty unpredictable.  Maybe, she needed a blood check.   

Sometimes, it was the response they gave.  When they thought she was cool to play, they became irritating and she was frustrated about it.  But when they were a little less than interested about how she felt, she always had the urge to portray silly expressions and the sort.  She played fool and live in its paradise.   

But as the sun rose in the morning, she wasn't at all angry nor frustrated.  She wasn't plotting on rage nor was she remembering the behaviours that disappoint her.  She was thinking more about the happier things instead.  She counted the number of kids who always made the efforts to learn.  They were probably among the naughtiest, but the most enthusiastic.  She laughed remembering how they mimicked her with silly expressions when she was angry.  They always put a cheer.

And, she was thankful.