What a silly son (chaotic entry)

Pow Ainsley poked at his chubby cheeks with his pudgy hand.

It seems he was trying to mimic systematic thinking, attempting to discern the truth of a statement.

After a long attempt, Pow gave up.

Because he simply didn't understand the comment in the first place.

Having no other choice, he approached his dad once again. If he gets scolded, he'll remind himself: Ah, scolding is a sign of affection.

His dad scolds him because he loves him.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Ethan Ainsley was about to leave the house, he had just put his coat on.

In North Town, the late spring was still chilly, with a lingering cold, though the afternoons were rather nice.

Pow, with his short little legs, bolted towards his dad. He wrapped his small arms around his dad's large legs, cocking his head, his curls bouncing back.

His eyes, dark like grapes and clear in their black and white, were a legacy from Lola Hussey.