
After school at pick-up time, we mothers got into chatting as usual. Kids were running around on the grass as usual. Somehow they got into an incident however, and I saw my daughter running toward me. She seemed really scared and desperate. After her was this boy, who also looked desperate and angry, running like crazy. She fell on the ground at my feet and he truckled her with his arms around her shoulders. She bursted out crying. Without knowing exactly what happened, I took her hand and headed home, since that choice seems the best at the moment. After she calmed down, she started to explain. She was spinning with her jacket and the tip of it hit the boy. It must have been really painful, because he was really mad. His mother also talked to him at home, and he came over afterwords to apologize. He apologized, and so did she, and now things are cool. But after all this ordeal, I was thinking of something else. That is the desperate look on her face when she was running away. The face reminded me exactly.... of her grand father (on my husband's side). That expression on her face was exactly the one I remember when the grandpa was desperately looking for his watch that he believed he got stolen in a hotel room during the family vacation almost 10 years ago (the watch was later found in a safe in the room, which he put there himself).