Some days I'm not 100%.
Or even 78%.
Some days I submit to the relentless questions and arguing and whining.
And some days I yell.
Some days I want to stomp and hold my own tantrum.
And some days are better.
The sun seems brighter.
Seventh graders seem funnier.
Or helpless.
Some days I can push up to 93%.
And some days I laugh.
Some days I want to repeat once again.