Two women, young and old, have early morning talk.
What point in being old? It's boring, nothing much at all?
I am watching children, push them grow, feed, dress, do homework, play. I make them live without sorrow.
Children? Always mess, tears, fights, not quiet place?
I am giving life, love, best requests.
You can't just go bar or dance?
I can, but I don't want, I've chosen to step on bigger road. Without me, where would you go? Would you be born at all?
Okay, okay, mom, can I just go?
