Mature, Wise and Sensible

Demyan 

I leaned against the doorframe as I watched Malia ferociously brush her hair at her makeup table. She constantly looked in my direction with her bottom lip jutted out before she focused back her attention to the mirror. 

"What are you doing?" I sighed as I stood up straight and took long lazy strides to stand behind her chair. 

"Brushing my hair, what does it look like?"

"Looks like you're ripping your hair out of your scalp," I laughed as I took the brush out of her hand, placed it down on the table then picked her up. This was how Ethan probably felt like when I was throwing one of my many fits and tantrums. I sat down on the bed with her firmly seated on my lap, "Can I explain my concerns and worries to you without you losing your mind for a second?"

She folded her arms across her chest and nodded, "Speak."