Gemotions

“Are you sure about this, Mom?” ten-year-old Leo asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The prospect of Liam's arcade party the same day as his own small bowling party ignited a spark in him. His carefully chosen playlist and planned decorations suddenly felt inadequate.

He traced the outline of a comic book character on the kitchen table with a finger, then erased it. He tried again. The image never took shape. He felt a powerful impulse to *move*, to run, to shout.

“It’s going to be great,” his mother said, though her voice lacked conviction. He didn’t believe her. He went to the window, watching the kids playing in the street.

The desire to do something, *anything* to distract himself was overwhelming.