My son is Michael. He had just turned 22 last month, and I thought we had passed the turbulent teenage years. Little did I know, a storm was brewing right under my nose.
While I was preparing lunch in the kitchen, Michael stormed in, his face twisted with frustration.
“Mom, we need to talk,” he said, his tone unusually serious.
I turned to him and said, “Sure, what’s on your mind, honey?”
He leaned against the counter, arms folded. “I need a car.”
I paused, taken aback. “A car? What happened to your part-time job? You were saving up for one.”
Michael let out an exasperated sigh. “I know, but it’s taking forever to save up, and I really need it now.”
He looked up, his expression defensive, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, threatening to leave if you don’t get what you want is not how adults handle things. It’s not fair to manipulate me like that,” I explained, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness.
Author: myhealthylife99.com
