During my bus journey this morning, a woman and her two kids, a boy and a girl, got on and sat near me. At some point the bus stopped suddenly and the boy was sent flying. Even though his mother tried to catch him he landed on his knee and he burst into tears. The poor thing was all shook up and wouldn't stop bawling.
When his mother tried to console him with a hug he refused. She said he didn't like her touching him when he was upset. I don't know whether he was always like that or maybe he was getting to that age when he feels himself grown up; he looked about 8 or 9. I touched his arm and told him everything was alright.
After he'd exhausted himself, he calmed down. He was soon flicking through the newspaper he had with him. He even showed me some photos. I asked if he had been watching the Rugby World Cup, which I have been following. He said there was no such thing as Rugby, just football. Fair enough. At their stop he was reluctant to leave.
That's what I love about kids, they're not ashamed to let out their emotions.
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