I've never been good with children. They're unpredictable and messy and strange.
And yet.
I don't hate them.
I don't know what I think of them.
Or at least, I didn't before.
Not in either of my previous lives.
And not even in this life, before.
May is easy to love.
I wonder if it's as easy to love any child, and I never had the chance?
"Auntie! AUNTIE!" May stomps her foot "Ignorrrinnggg meeeeee!" She whines, tugging on my shirt.
"I'm not ignoring you, I'm just listening." I laugh. "You're getting loud."
"Am not! I am! Being. Normal. Level." She pouts.
"Of course you're not. Why, if you were louder you'd be screaming." I pat her head. "And what were we discussing again?"
"Ummm. I...um..." May pauses. "Um..."
"You don't know, do you?" I arch a brow.
"...No. Because. Because Auntie wasn't listening...!"
She's upset, though I suspect she's partly just working herself up into upset.
Regardless, I bend down and my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
