Abandoned in the easy chair once again, Norma fumed. Her children gossiped in the kitchen. They didn’t want to be overheard saying anything that might upset her.
Norma sniffed. She was ninety, not nine.
Reclining, she chuckled softly and plotted her revenge.
She’d knit them all scratchy socks for Christmas.
L.L. Madrid could use some new socks.