First of all, I busted in and said “What’s that noise?” because you are making a RACKET. I’m going to ask you one more time to please keep it down.
I know you’re mad at me because I wouldn’t let you skip school today even though you overslept. But, quite frankly, letting you skip school rather than be tardy would have been rewarding your irresponsible behavior. It’s beyond me why you aren’t capable of setting an alarm. Honestly.
I know you’re also mad at me because I disposed of your “best”…you-know-what. Well I’m sorry, but as long as you live under my roof, those filthy periodicals are not to cross the threshold of this house, is that clear? If you think living here is such a drag, you’re more than welcome to get your own place, buy your own food, do your own laundry, and provide your own transportation everywhere you want to go.
That’s what I thought.
Look: Your father and I care about you; that’s why we get so worked up. And as far as Dad goes, I know you think he’s a hypocrite because he gave you that “no smoking” speech when he smokes himself—and you didn’t hear this from me, but I know he feels like a hypocrite, too—but he just doesn’t want you making the same mistakes he made. He started smoking when he was your age, and he’s been addicted ever since. I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s tried to quit and failed, and—well, you’ve heard the way he hacks and coughs.
I don’t understand a lot of what you kids are into, and I can’t say I approve of it all—for starters, I wish you’d cut your hair and wear some sensible clothes—but your father and I do love you, OK? OK.
Oh, and for the record: I may have a lot of feelings about that music you listen to, but trust me—jealousy isn’t one of them.