My Mom won't let me move back in.

Yeah, you’re right. You’re grown.

Y’know, I tried. I did my damnedest. I’m sure you remember all the things I said. I know I pissed you off…you told me often, in angry terms loaded with profanity and disrespect. I asked too many questions, I gave you too many orders. Your responses were usually monosyllabic, resentful, and evasive. 

I remember very well. I would ask you a question. You would answer with “I don’t know’.

I’m sure you remember what I asked, or what I said to you. I know you remember because you told me so, you told me how much you hated it. 

The only times you spoke to me were when you wanted something.

When I wanted something, you shut me out. Remember?

I bet you remember the things I "ordered you", or chastised you for:

Stay in school. Let me see your report card. You’re in trouble again. You told me you were going to the mall, but you lied. 
Say "please" and "thank you". 

Yes, you have to be home by eight, it's a school night.  No, you cannot drive my car. You want a driver’s license; you have to go to driver’s training.

Come and eat the dinner I made. No, you can't eat with your cellphone by your plate.

Don’t curse me. I am not ‘bitch’ “ho” “fucker’. Stop using that language. Clean up your room. Get up; you’re going to miss the bus. No, you are not going to smoke.

Do your homework. Why did you skip school? No, you cannot sleep over at that girl’s house. I am not a bitch. 
Do you want help with your math homework?

Get off your butt and clean your room. Do not bring those people into my house. No, I will not give you money. You have to earn it. Mow the lawn. Clean up after yourself. Take out the garbage.  Do your homework. Stay in school.

This is not English. There is no such word as “u”.

You forged my signature on this pass, didn’t you?

Knowing how to read is more important than you think. Texting is not reading.

Shut off the television. Turn down that music.

Clean up after yourself. I am not your slave. I will not replace that thing you broke due to carelessness. I will not buy you another jacket after you lent yours to someone else.

I do love you but not when you call me names. I don’t care what someone else’s mother lets her do. No, you will not stay out late with a boy you like. I will not allow a boy in this house who uses language like that.

Shut off the computer. No, you cannot play those video games. I will not buy you a smart phone.

Do not steal. Don’t lie to me. That’s not yours, put it back. Shoplifting is a crime. Do you want to go to juvie?

Your father works hard to keep a roof over your head. We can’t afford that. You’re not going to be eating junk food instead of the dinner I cooked.

You are not old enough to be drinking. You will not do that in this house. You’re not old enough to be having sex.

You do not need shoes that cost $250.00  What is the name of the friend you’re meeting ‘at school” and what will you be doing.  Where are you going? Who are you going to be with? What did you do at school today?

 I do understand. I am not going to give you money. A job is a job; it doesn’t matter if you like it. I will not give you a credit card.

I will not sign for a loan for you. If you want to go to college, you have to keep your grades up.

 Yeah, now you remember. These were the reasons why you wanted to move out.  You don't want to admit that all these 'orders' were precipitated by something YOU did-or didn't-do.

All these things made you angry. All I ever did was give you 'orders'. You didn’t listen. You didn’t hear me when I tried to teach you, mentor you, and guide you. You don’t remember those things, do you? You don’t remember when I tried to do what every parent is required to do. Remember all the things I "made" you do, required of you, asked of you? You never considered why. When you refused to do the things I asked of you, you 'knew' it was because I was a mean bitch, your father was an asshole. This is what I asked of you:

Let me teach you how to budget.

Let me teach you manners. 

Let me help you with your homework. 

Let me teach you to read, to write, to get the most out of your free schooling.

Let me teach you how to stay healthy.

Let me teach you how to prepare for a job interview.

Let me teach you courtesy, consideration, timeliness.

Let me teach you how to deal with people who have more power than you.

Let me teach you how to take care of yourself.

Let me teach you how babies are made, and how to prevent them.

Let me teach you how to cook, do laundry, keep a checkbook, to plan ahead, to think things through. 

Let me teach you skills you are going to need when you grow up.

Let me help you. Let me teach you. 

Let me in. 

I knew that you would need these skills. But you refused to listen or learn. 

Now you are ‘grown’. You moved out to be free of us. You did things: screwed around in college and flunked out. Got evicted because you didn't pay your rent. You moved in with your boyfriend who is married and went back to his wife. Can't join the Army because you have a record. Got fired from an entry level job that actually required you to show up on time and do work. Got your girlfriend pregnant. Broke into someone’s house and got caught. Got busted for drugs, for underage drinking, for identity theft.  Your car got repossessed because you didn't make the payments. Bounced checks and now have bad credit. Can't get a good job because of the tattoo on your face. 

 I didn’t teach you that. You did that because you 'knew what you were doing'.   

You were raised by us, with all that that means: food, housing, clothing, utilities, chauffeuring, medical care, schooling.It just came to you, like the air you breathe. Right?

 It never occurred to you that all this was provided to you because I was responsible for you when you were a child. You weren't required to pay for them. Adults provide, children consume.  What was required of you: household chores, keeping yourself and your room, clean, helping around the house, going to school every day,  being mannerly and respectful of others was the only way we could teach you to be an independent citizen. But you rejected it. You didn't like taking orders, being made to 'work'. All you wanted was for us to give you money and to leave you alone to do what you wanted.  You called us "bitch" and "fucker". You hated us. 

Now you're an adult.

You’re 19. You’re 21. You’re 24. All grown up and I can’t tell you what to do, never again. You are free to live your life as you choose.  You are an ‘adult’. You don’t have to listen to me anymore.  

But guess what?

This is MY house. My electricity, my internet, my food. My bathroom, hot shower, bed with clean sheets. My refrigerator, my kitchen. My dishwasher. My car, my bank account, my credit card.  I choose who lives here, because, like you, I am all grown up. Doing what I want, with no mom or dad giving me orders.  I don't have to take orders from YOU.

I know why you are here. You refused to listen, to learn, to hear. Now you’re finding out that the world is a tough place in which to live. You refused to learn the skills you need now to live in it. Now you are finding that things cost money: cars, houses, rent, food, computers, utilities, clothes. You don't have any money. You know that I do.  So you want to come back and live under my roof.  You want to live like you did when you were a child-free of all responsibilities, to do what you want. You want to be treated like an adult. You want none of the rules I’d imposed, no expectation of reciprocation, and most especially, free of charge.  Are you going to pay rent? Utilities? Buy your own food, cook it, and clean it up? Are you going to get a job? Buy a car?

Why should I let you back into my house?

“I don’t know” doesn’t cut it anymore. Because I DO know. You want it back like it used to be, for free. Because back when you were a child, life was easy. You didn't have to worry about money.  Now life is hard, too hard for you. You want me to take care of you, without the nagging, but  with all the benefits and none of the responsibilities. Because you're an adult now and expect to be treated like one, unlike how you treated me.

I’m sure you will recognize my response. You should, you used it on me all the time. 

No.

No, I will not let you move back in.

No, you can’t have your room back.

No, you cannot leave your dog here.

No, you cannot leave your stuff here. 
No, you cannot eat my food. 

No, I will not post your bail, or lend you my car, or let your girlfriend live here. 

No, I will not give you money or co-sign a loan or hide you from the police.

No, I will not take care of the baby for you. It’s your child, not mine. I  am not going to raise it, or babysit for free. 

You go right ahead and call me names, like bitch or fucker. I'm used to them, coming from you.  You knew exactly what you are doing, so you go out and do it all on your own, like the grown up you are.

The free ride is over.

You are all grown up. But you know what? So am I.

Emancipation works both ways.

Kubo and the Two Strings-no spoilers but DO go see it.

“Kubo and the Two Strings” Movie Review

This is an odd one in that it’s a stop action animation (although it is so seamless you will never know it) and a story that probably has never been heard in America.

Set in medieval Japan, it stars a boy who lives alone with, and serves as caretaker for his widowed mother. It’s not explained why until late in the movie, but it is obvious that something is very wrong with Mom. The boy, Kubo, has an amazing talent with the samisen (a stringed instrument from Japan) and origami, the art of folding paper into shapes.

The backgrounds alone are worth the price of the ticket, but the story carries you along so well the scenery barely registers-until it has a part to play. For instance, the ocean’s awesome yet mindless power is extremely apparent in the beginning of the movie. It may be to me, because I am a landlubber, prone to seasickness at the drop of a bow.

Characters are all believable. The good people are good, the villains extremely villainous, and the special effects are incredible.

George Takei plays a small ‘walk on’ role. I do wish they’d given him the primary male lead’s part, especially because he is Japanese, but it was not to be.

Pay attention to the strings. Despite the title, there are 3. They are symbolic and play a very important part.

A friend asked me how I liked it, as she was contemplating taking her 3 year old granddaughter.

NO. Despite it being an animation, there are some frightening scenes in it that a 3 year old can’t handle. I’d say 8 and above.

Don’t walk out at the end of the movie. The credits roll accompanied by the unforgettable licks of George Harrison (the only Beatle with any talent) covered by someone I don’t know who. I have to say that the cover band did a better job than Harrison, especially by adding taiko drums!  After the credits roll, there’s an outtake of the actual production that you must see. Keep a real close eye on what that skeleton tries.

If I were asked to give it stars, I’d I’d give it 5.

Dylann Roof gets slugged in jail.

  This punk murdered nine people after spending an hour in church with them.

   The murdered people were black. Roof, as you can see, is white. He styled himself a confederate flag waving, gun toting white supremicist. With his baby face and ability to fool some very kind people, he got into a church where the people took him in. I'm not religious...I'm atheist. But they were minding their own business.  They took him despite his color. They opened their arms to him, welcoming him.

   He killed them all. He'd planned it meticulously and felt not a lick of remorse. They extended kindness and generosity, and he blew them all away. Why? They were black. And trusting, and gentle.

   Now he is in jail, awaiting trial. For some reason, he's in protective custody. NO DOUBT. Given the details of his crime, and the fact that most guys in prison are black, (and let's not forget that baby face of his), he's probably been on a hit list for a while. So now not only do we have him on the gravy train...three hots and a cot for the rest of his life, now he has to have a body guard. 

  You know what, asshole?  If you're such a big man to do that crime, you should be big enough to handle your ass in jail.  I would have had your ass in the General Population from the git go.
But...those guys in prison, they aren't church going, gentle folk. Are they? No. They aren't lambs. They aren't even wolves. They're humans, the most dangerous animal on the planet. Thought you were tough guy, big White Punk? That don't mean a thing in prison. Nope. As Richard Pryor's doberman once said to him, "Try that again, mother fucker."

  Well, someone in jail got to him. Some black man. Smart man, he didn't kill Roof, just sucker punched him. Any assault charge isn't going to change a thing, but his status with other inmates just took a big jump.

   You had it coming, Roof. I'm really surprised it took this long, but the corrections officers were doing their job too well. 
I read your manifesto. I am amazed. Despite your racism,  you write fairly well. But it doesn't mean you're anything but a self centered punk. Thought you were going to save the white world? Right. What you should have done was look at white people (and I am white) through the eyes of, say, the Native Americans. The Indians had this country for 20, 000 years before white folks introduced them to concepts like genocide and mass murder. 
Killing people doesn't solve anything. But their deaths did do some good...it got one more roach like you out into the sunlight, where we can snatch you up and cage you like the vermin you are.  
   You had it coming, asshole. And I hope next time the guy who gets you does more than jackslap your murderous ass.