Gemotions

The scent of freshly baked bread filled the house, a comforting aroma that always made me feel at peace. My son, Ben, stood at the kitchen counter, flour dusting his cheeks, carefully kneading the dough. He'd watched me bake for years, and now he was doing it himself. His movements were precise, his concentration unwavering. He hummed a little tune, and the scene before me was just perfect. I wanted to hug him and never let go. The aroma, the joy, the pure bliss of the moment. I said to him, "You're going to be a master baker, I just know it."