The Mother Talks

On a summer afternoon, the sunlight was like melting gold, filtering through layers of phoenix tree leaves, casting countless dappled spots on the ground that gently swayed in the breeze. The air was filled with a faint scent of grass and earth combined. Occasionally, the cicadas' chirping cut through the stillness, deepening the afternoon's languor. I sat on the soft sofa in the living room, my fingertips absentmindedly gliding over the cool genuine leather surface. My daughter, Eve Lynn, hugged her favorite pink bunny pillow, curled up in the other corner of the sofa watching TV. A lively cartoon played on the screen, its colorful images reflected on her tender little face, her black grape-like eyes filled with concentration. "Eve, go downstairs to our shopping mall's M Milk Tea Shop and get two bubble teas with ice." I called out to her back, my voice breaking the quiet of the living room. Eve Lynn seemed to be switched on; she bounced up from the sofa at once, her little face lighting up with a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling like two tiny stars. "Got it, Mom. Do you want a large cup or a medium?" Her clear voice carried a note of excitement. "A large, with extra Boba." I smiled and waved, pointing toward the entrance. "The money's in the pink wallet on the cabinet by the door." Eve Lynn answered cheerfully, slipping on her little bear slippers and pattering off toward the entrance. I heard the crisp clink of coins as she picked up the wallet, followed by the door opening and closing. I leaned back on the sofa, scrolling through the news on my phone, while my mind drifted to the evening's menu. Eve has recently grown fond of sweet and sour pork ribs; I need to buy some fresh ribs and pair them with some greens and soup to keep the nutrition balanced.