Tom’s Mediation
Tom, inspired by our rehearsals, joined the discourse in the hopes of calming the storm. “Mom,” he started, “Lisa and I are being meticulous about the details. It is critical to us that it is done correctly. Margaret groaned heavily and waved a dismissive hand. “I know you’re trying, Tom, but this isn’t something you need to handle with kid gloves,” she told me. Her eyes showed she doubted us, but Tom was undeterred, still holding out hope for peace.
Tom’s Mediation
Sarcasm Under Fire
Margaret responded quickly with sarcasm, shaking her head. “Handling it, eh? “Your pace is truly efficient,” she said, laughing in surprise. My lips constricted as I attempted to chose my words carefully. If we allow her to mistrust us now, she will take advantage of the opportunity. “Mom, jokes aside,” Tom said anxiously, “we’re confident this will work out.” Margaret only giggled gently, unconvinced by Tom’s efforts to smooth things out.
Sarcasm Under Fire
