Envy

With unadorned bamboo poles, Mark and I cast out into the stocked pond. My red-and-white bobber repeatedly plunged below the surface. The catfish were biting, and I gleefully yanked them in. Mark didn’t even get a nibble, however, and his mood shifted into self-pitying despair.
Dad’s first cousin gushed to Mark: “Why, you have the prettiest big eyes and the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen!” She then turned to me: “I bet you wish that you had your brother’s eyes.”
My haul of catfish was suddenly worthless. I would have willingly traded them all for Mark’s pretty eyes. Mark would have OK’d the deal too, if only it were possible.