Gemotions

He stared at the name, a slow burn starting behind his eyes. Mr. Abernathy. The same Mr. Abernathy. This felt like a betrayal. His daughter, Maya, was starting fourth grade. A wave of irritation swept over him.

He started scrutinizing other children. He found himself bristling at their laughter, their carefree attitudes. They were *wasting* time that he felt Maya should be using to advance. He wanted everything for Maya.

He’d sign Maya up for every extra-curricular activity, filling her schedule with piano lessons, art classes, and coding workshops. The others’ limited efforts were an insult to what he believed Maya deserved. She would be the most exceptional.

He made sure Maya's work was pristine, her presentation impeccable. He saw Mr. Abernathy as the judge, the key to unlocking the recognition he felt he had been denied. The children were competition, their existence merely an obstacle.