A bright morning came with the crisp bird calls.
Jonathan crawled cozily on the sofa, with a crumbled newspaper in his hands. His eyesight wasn’t that good as before, he pushed his glasses a bit, trying hard to figure out what’s written in the newspaper. Moments later, there came a younger boy holding a dinner knife rushing toward Jonathan, he suddenly stopped at halfway, but Jonathan has already heard his footsteps—
The young boy shrank his body a bit, waiting for Jonathan’s yelling, and it came as he expected: “Don’t run with a knife in your hand Bratty kid!!” Oliver put down his knife, smile sheepishly: “Grandpa, you want some steaks?” Jonathan slowly stood up, the pink tulips blooming in the vase caught his eyes.
A good day always starts with yelling at kids, he thought.
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