bring on the wonder, we got it all wrong

Scimitar was no fool. Bazi's face tightened into an obnoxious pout when he pressed her to explain herself. She wanted to talk - that was all. About their past, their future, their dreams. Scimitar seemed reluctant to do any of those things, least opening his mouth has some sort of negative effect on the children. "I'm not a cripple. And I'm just as capable as you are," she huffed, 'I don't understand why you're always, ALWAYS worrying. It's summer, our children are fine, everything is great. Why can't we just talk and relax? Make a joke! Something!