I could feel Jet studying me. Then he leaned on my legs, put his chin on my knees and then gave me a sweet, quiet, calm smile that crinkled his eyes, pitted his dimples, and he craned his head just a bit to give it that movie star angle, and he just looked at me that way for a good three or four minutes. WHILE I was shouting.
I couldn't keep up the frustrated anger that had been fueling my side of the conversation. I just couldn't in the face of that. I just had to smile back at him. When I did he gave me his more characteristic grin, puckered up for a kiss, and when he got it he toddled off again.
I was flabbergasted, and I was also able to get far more reasonable with the conversation after the break from the old habits and the old reactions. And Kathy and I had a great conversation after that. A good one, even, and we both learned a few things.
I, for one, now know that Jet is not scared of me when I shout. This is... entirely different than my own reactions from when my parents shouted about anything. It was duck and run kind of adrenaline charge when they raised their voices at all. Jet is not only not scared of me, but I *think* he came over to make me feel better. And he did. Wow.