The flour story

Right in the front mom was kneading the dough,

I could see a tiny girl in to the space
With her tiny kitchen set and flour all round and over her
And spoonful of water in her tiny jar
Trying to learn to knead so happily

And I spilled the water mug here
My horried mother trying to tug her hair strands behind
And asking me to get up
Has applied the wet flour against her forehead,

And I saw a teen against me
Adoring the scene on the television screen
A girl struggling with her hair strands
And her so called crush, boyfriend or the live partner
Rushing from behind and tug those hair strands behind her ear 
With so much of love exchanged through the eye
As if this the last breathe they are exchanging

And I trying to mop the water on the floor had kicked the another water jar into the mid kneeded flour, again!
And the moment I saw mom's face
So angry and furious
Lashing me out of the space
Walking my way out of the kitchen
I turned and to my surprise,

I saw a man standing with a vessel of flour and a jar of water
And there he goes
 Pouring the entire water into the flour
 And instead of dough his hands are into the flour past
He seem so cute trying handle so delicate things instead of those logically files in hand
 I stand adoring my furious mother again

And a flying roller comes my way
And I get a reality hit on my head