short essay on something

He calmly put the book down on the table knowing very well it was time. There was a limit even to the truly motherly patience inherent in her and such extinction, however temporary it might be, was not one to be taken lightly. She had stated her case several times and at the end of each sentence it became very easy to perceive that her point was to be made clear and be taken into account. He knew this, he was long accustomed to this ritual, this escalating display of arguments, more and more firm and concise. He preferred to wait and even though he kept reading in this case or ensuing many other tasks on so many other occasions, he would always be careful enough as to make her know that in no way was he disregarding her opinions and was in fact aknowledging her every thought. Even if she doubted this, sure enough he would in his caring and thoughtful reply sum up all of her ideas as to let her know he had taken all points in consideration.
So he placed his dear Hermann on the wooden table, with his eyes still set on the cover as if mesmerized by it but in his mind he was already constructing the opening lines to his counter-argument. "Dear, I honestly don't give a flying crap if Theodore already has one or not. You're not getting a new mobile phone. Deal with it."
She gasped, in shock and astonishment, slightly puzzled as to why her father would reply in such an imposing manner and rose to her feet, eying him with nothing but pure hatred. "AAAHH" she screeched with her fists clenched so tight, bacteria would feel uncomfortable. And then with "I hate you! I wish you'd have died in mum's place!!" she left the room, silent, unshaken by such cruel and unfair words. This room where he now pondered the possibility of having pasta for lunch. But briefly after this thought had been formed in his mind, he decided against it and kept on reading dearest Hermann.