“Five minutes!” Mom calls.

“What?” I say. “I thought I had more time!”

“Nope,” Mom says. “Time’s up for today.” It doesn’t feel like five minutes before she’s standing next to me. She holds her hand out for the tablet.

“But I’m not done!” I say.

“You’re never done,” she says.

“That’s not true. I have six minutes left on my video. If I could finish it I’d be happy to put the tablet away,” I explain.

Mom looks at me. I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Really?” she says.

She’s probably right. I would find another video to watch. But it still feels unfair. My face is getting hot and my head feels fuzzy. I think I might cry.

“I want to keep playing!” I yell.

“I know you do,” Mom says. “But your time is up.” I can tell she’s trying to stay calm. I don’t feel calm at all. I feel angry.

“I don’t think you counted right,” I say.

Mom looks at me again. Her eyes are hard. I can tell I’ve gone too far.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Mom sighs. “Screen time can make us all a little less nice,” she says. “Tomorrow, we’ll use a timer.”

I agree. But that still means I’m finished now. I take a deep breath.

“How about some outside time?” Mom says.

“Okay,” I say. I hand her the tablet and put on my shoes.