Gemotions

"Oh, *wow*," said Sarah, eyes wide, feigning surprise as she held up a poorly constructed diorama of the solar system. Her mother was standing in the doorway, wringing her hands, oblivious to the fact that her daughter was about to launch a small emotional missile.

"I didn't realize you were so…*creative* back then, Mom," she continued, her voice dripping with careful sweetness. She knew the power of a well-placed compliment, especially when followed by a slight pause. She picked up a geography test from the pile, and scanned it with a deliberately exaggerated air of scrutiny.

The paper was riddled with red ink. She pretended to be studying the grading of the test. Her eyes flickered. Her lips formed a very slight curve, the corner just lifting ever so slightly.

"You know, I remember you helping *me* with my geography," Sarah said, tilting her head and letting her voice soften with feigned gratitude. She closed the lid on the trunk. It was going to be a long conversation.