Gemotions

I felt a surge of… something… as I watched my daughter, Chloe, meticulously tending to her miniature succulent garden. It was my hobby, my escape. I had spent years learning about the right light conditions, the perfect soil blends. Chloe, however, had simply… adopted it. Her garden, a perfect replica of mine, sat in the sunshine, looking pristine. It was… infuriating. I crossed my arms, my jaw muscles clenched. Did she have any sense of the effort I put in? Did she understand the time? The investment? No, of course not. She was just… there, enjoying it.