He circled around her and said, "Your chest is so small, your butt is so flat, there's no front or back curve, and you're so skinny. What on earth does Ethan Laurent see in you?"
The disdain in his voice was strong, with a severe lack of understanding. It didn't seem like something a kid of seven or eight would say.
Summer Ford was so angry she clenched her fists, wishing she could twist the little brat and stuff him into the toilet.
She straightened her still passable chest and smacked his head, "What do you know, kid? Do you think Ethan Laurent, like you, still drinking milk, only likes big breasts?"
Her sarcasm was not polite at all, and the little boy's face turned bright red with anger, unable to say a word for a long time.
"Alright, go find your mom, I'm hungry," Summer Ford didn't want to argue with a child. She patted his shoulder, turned around, and wanted to leave, but the brat happily followed her.
