A Slice of the Eye-roll
She rolls her eyes – just a flick upwards. She’s so mad.
Grabs the paper from me. She’s so mad.
Get’s in the elevator. She’s so mad.
It looks like she is going to stand facing the corner, but she turns around and I laugh and tell her “I thought you were so mad you were going to go stand in the corner.”
It’s always worth a try at a little joke.
She laughs, but quickly. Like a groan. She’s so mad.
She says, “You didn’t ask me if I wanted to go.”
I say, “You’re right.”
She’s so mad.
But the elevator keeps going on its short trip.
We’re there, we walk in and she starts filling out paperwork. She’s so mad.
Jams the pen to the paper, scribbles notes.
Rolls her eyes like a teenager, yes.
But also tantrums like a very quiet toddler.
Then a service dog walks by. He’s adorable, decides to nap.
She takes a break from being mad. Because, dog.
“I know what I’ll do whenever you are really mad at me!” I say. “I’ll just bring a puppy with me! Or flash a picture of a dog. Then I know you’ll smile.”
She rolls her eyes again, but this time with the smile still on her face.
This eye roll is friendlier, it has humor.