Sunday with Mom & Pop

"Did you read the article about those panhandlers who stabbed someone because he didn't give them change?"

"Oh really? Were they young panhandlers?"

"Does it matter?"

"I can't imagine older panhandlers working in groups."

"So does that make it OK for them to stab people who refuse to give them money?"

"That's not what I said."

According to Dad, this should teach me a lesson -- to not associate with "these people." I can't recall when was the last time I told him I'd befriended a gang of panhandlers, but it seems that he thinks I'm friendly with every stranger on the street, due to my "kind of lifestyle."

I guess I should have known better than to tell my parents about the volunteer work. Or maybe I shouldn't have said anything about the random men who come up to talk to me when I am alone because clearly, it's my fault for "inviting their attention."

They caught me eating unwashed fruit tonight. Boy did I get an earful for that one too.

I assured them that it had nothing to do with their parenting -- it's just that I didn't want to ... wash off all of the nutrients. And that I'm lazy.


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