Abagael Zellan
May 14th, 2003, 11:55:03 AM
"No, no, no, no,no...dammit! Trent!"
Abagael Zellan raced away from the little desk in the recruitment center and tried to grab her son. The blonde little boy giggled and dashed away, leaving behind a puddle of juice that he had emptied onto the floor from his sippy cup. Abagael pulled a few tissues from her purse and bent down, difficult in her tight gray business skirt. Amazingly enough, her manicured nails were still intact and she was wearing expensive, uncomfortable footwear--a difficulty when one had a four year old son.
"Trent, come here...Come, don't do that...Come here Trent!"
She picked up the sopping wet tissues, grimacing at the texture and threw them into a small ziploc bag that she pulled from her bulging purse. As she darted toward her son, who was trying to get into one of the fountains, her dark glasses slipped out of her hair and fell onto the stone floor. Abagael stopped and tottered back, struggling to be fast in the her black heels. She picked them up and put them in her mouth, grabbing Trent by one arm. He started laughing. Abagael picked him up and deposited him on a bench.
"It's not funny! Now I want you, just for one minute, to sit here and be a normal kid! Mommy is trying to make a very important descision!"
"Phhhlllllppp!"
Abagael blinked, and wiped the spit off her face. Growling as she stormed away from her son, the woman struggled to keep her composure. She certainly did not look like a mother. Her business suit was almost clean, with only a smudge of something-or-other on the pocket, and her hair was immaculately styled, despite the hectic non-stop running after her child. Abagael was utterly exausted from the effort it took to keep herself emmaculate.
"I'm sorry, he just--"
The woman was cut off mid-apology by the tiny sound of running feet. She turned around, only to see Trent heading toward the doors. Dropping her purse Abagael waved at the woman behind the desk.
"I'll be right back, just...Trent! Stop right now! Mommy is feeling very frustrated honey"
If life as a Jedi was even half as hectic as life as a mother was, Abagael was certain she could handle it. If she could ever get a moment to speak, that was.
Abagael Zellan raced away from the little desk in the recruitment center and tried to grab her son. The blonde little boy giggled and dashed away, leaving behind a puddle of juice that he had emptied onto the floor from his sippy cup. Abagael pulled a few tissues from her purse and bent down, difficult in her tight gray business skirt. Amazingly enough, her manicured nails were still intact and she was wearing expensive, uncomfortable footwear--a difficulty when one had a four year old son.
"Trent, come here...Come, don't do that...Come here Trent!"
She picked up the sopping wet tissues, grimacing at the texture and threw them into a small ziploc bag that she pulled from her bulging purse. As she darted toward her son, who was trying to get into one of the fountains, her dark glasses slipped out of her hair and fell onto the stone floor. Abagael stopped and tottered back, struggling to be fast in the her black heels. She picked them up and put them in her mouth, grabbing Trent by one arm. He started laughing. Abagael picked him up and deposited him on a bench.
"It's not funny! Now I want you, just for one minute, to sit here and be a normal kid! Mommy is trying to make a very important descision!"
"Phhhlllllppp!"
Abagael blinked, and wiped the spit off her face. Growling as she stormed away from her son, the woman struggled to keep her composure. She certainly did not look like a mother. Her business suit was almost clean, with only a smudge of something-or-other on the pocket, and her hair was immaculately styled, despite the hectic non-stop running after her child. Abagael was utterly exausted from the effort it took to keep herself emmaculate.
"I'm sorry, he just--"
The woman was cut off mid-apology by the tiny sound of running feet. She turned around, only to see Trent heading toward the doors. Dropping her purse Abagael waved at the woman behind the desk.
"I'll be right back, just...Trent! Stop right now! Mommy is feeling very frustrated honey"
If life as a Jedi was even half as hectic as life as a mother was, Abagael was certain she could handle it. If she could ever get a moment to speak, that was.