He stood next to the television but not in her field of vision holding what he thought was his best work yet and couldn’t wait to show his mother, whom he knew would find it to be just excellent. She always loved to read his stories, said they were full of life. Much like him.
His mother looked at him, back at the TV, then back at him. “You’re waiting to show me something, aren’t you?”
He excitedly shook his head, anticipation bringing on peeing sensations.
“Not now. I’m trying to watch this.”
He frowned, walking away, his heart completely broken.