Mom.

Brody, pick up the phone!

Who is it?

It's your mother!

My mom??

Yeah!

Hello?

What the hell is the matter with you?

Hey, Mom.

Why aren't you home yet?

There're still a few weeks left in school.

I'm tired of you being at school all the time. When will you be finished?

Not for another semester, but Mom, even after I graduate, I'm not coming home.

And why not?

Because I don't want to live with my mom anymore.

And why not?

Because I'll have my degree. Because I'll get a job. Because I'll move to another state. Because I'll get married, I'll have kids, and a dog - all that stuff. I can't do that if I'm still living with my mom.

Yes you can.

I can't and I won't.

Ever since your father died, you've been rebelling against me…

That's not true.

Oh, yes it is. Ever since he past away, you've wanted nothing to do with me. I don't even know who you are anymore. You're not the son I remember.

I'm not rebelling against you.

Well, what would you call it?

Growing up.

You don't know what you're talking about. You're too young to be growing up.

I'm 23 and in my third year of college. When will I be grown up?

You've got to hit 30 first and that's a fact. Statistics have shown it - men don't fully develop into grown men until they turn 30.

Mom, that's not true.

Oh yes, it is! I read it in Reader's Digest!

Will you stop? I'm not the one who's changed since Dad died. I am grown up and I'm not coming home.

Don't take that tone with me.

Why did you call me, Mom?

Your picture's in the paper.

My picture?

Yeah, your face. Your face is in the newspaper. It's a review for that place you waiter at. It's plain as day, right here in front of me. Your picture. Although, I won't call it a handsome one. You need a haircut, Brody. I can't believe you let it get out of control like that. Are you taking care of yourself? I swear, if you get sick--

I'm not getting sick. Which newspaper did you find the picture in?

The Seattle Times, what else?

I'll have to pick up a copy. I don't even remember a picture being taken.

Well, there's another waiter standing next to you and I must say, he's a good-looking young man. Why can't you look more like him, Brody? Why can't you be dashing, like him?

I don't know how.

And you say you're not rebelling against me?

Alright, Mom. Thanks for calling.

Oh, well - you're welcome. It was my pleasure. Nothing suits me better than a phone call to my arrogant son.

I'll see you at Christmas.

Fine. But cut your hair before you get here - I won't let you in the house if you look like a homeless boy.

Bye, Mom!

Fine, goodbye.


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