Let me tell you something, okay? I put a roof over your head, money in your pocket, clothes on your back… food in your mouth! Who paid for that college education? I never showed up to kiss your ass, but your mother? She’s a house wife! Why couldn’t you swallow your God damned pride and just come home to her? You tell me why!
Is that all you wanted, Henry, was a kind word? An ‘atta boy? Then to use your words, you should have *come* the *fuck* home! We all waited, *quietly*, but you never came. Okay? And I was the one she’d blame, because you wouldn’t come home. Me. Now, was I tough on you? Yes. How’d you turn out, Henry? Waiting tables? A bum?
You were high, you rolled a car with your brother in it! He had a major league career ahead of him, a 90 mile-an-hour fast ball, and he runs a turnip shop! You crippled him, you stole his future, and you call *me* an ass hole?
Oooh, “I was 13, I was 17.” You were headed down the wrong path! I did what I thought was right.
I looked at him and saw you. Same willful disobedience… same recklessness. I looked at him and saw my middle son.My little boy. My little boy. I watched him cry right there. I wanted to put my arms around him and tell him it didn’t have to be like this. I wanted someone to help him… like I’d want someone to help my boy… if he lost his way. It was my chance to be… that someone. Is that so much to ask? Maybe so. Maybe so.
Intelligent people who will listen to instructions and follow the evidence.
