I erupted into laughter again when Maeve proposed naming her grumpy snow creature after her mother. Once I could breathe again, I began to add wings to my monstrosity- or at least try to. “Gods, I love that. If that’s the name of yours, I’m changing mine to Moira Tonnerre.” I drew back to examine my masterpiece and frowned. It was not recognizable at all. I crafted a plate of cookies to accompany it, knowing what I did of auntie Moira’s sweet tooth.
It all just looked like a lumpy pile of snow. “Your mom’s too nice to you to melt your creation, but I think she’d happily annihilate mine.” (I had recently learned the word annihilate, and used it every chance I got.) To be fair, my snow creature did not deserve to live. I had neither the patience nor the natural talent to be an artist, but I was okay with that. Let the painters paint, and the sculptures sculpt, and I would do the things I did best- running and laughing and feeling. I believed youth was meant to be spent free-wheeling, for that is what felt the best to me.
I huffed, dissatisfied with my creation. “Um, do you want to do something else?” I eyed Maeve carefully to judge her reaction, not wanting to tear her away from the activity if she was really enjoying it. We had barely even started, anyway. “Literally, anything else. You name it, I’ll do it. Promise.” I tried to keep the whining eagerness from my voice- I was the older one, and I generally tried to act that way.
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@Maeve
