Whenever fresh has asked for our advice, from banking to what kind of dinner to cook for his girl or how to handle her booze pushing brother, we always let him know what's on our minds--our collective wisdom if you will.And like any self respecting yute, he completely ignores us, preferring to learn life's lessons the same way we all did. The hard way.

And when his turn comes to give the advice to the next young turk in line, he'll be just as head-shakingly umbraged as us when the young turk ignores it.

True, but he isn't coming home and all this feet wiping at the door of the cellar is peculiar. It reads like a sitcom. "Mom", "I'm Home" " I just got a Chase account". "Son, I thought we discussed this" " I advised you to go to a credit union" " You asked for an opinion and you just went and did your own thing". " Again" " How could you?" "Gee mom, sorry" " I thought it was ok that I thought for myself" "I am 24 now"

There are, like, five moms and three sons in your sitcom...

Mormon commune in the 60s?

haha funny- That's speed typing after a day of studying.



:)