From the Mouth of Babes... New Perspectives

“Hey, man. You – You gotta stop blaming me for your problems. I’m not the cause of your problems. I’m not the cause of anything. This is all you and it has always been you from day one. I just don’t know what to do with you anymore. Like, listen, alright? All I’m saying is you’ve got to take some responsibility in your life. You’re always trying to pass it off. No, no, no, no, no, no, wait. Ju-just let me finish, alright? As far as you’re concerned, you’re never wrong? Am I right? AM I right? Yeah, yeah... Yeah, I’m right. You’re always passing off responsibility, you’re always accusing others of being wrong, when it’s always you. Look, look at you right now. I can read your thoughts. Hey, mind if I ash? Pass me a tray. Thanks.

So, where was I? Oh, right. Pass me a tray... Oh, right. Passing the blame. What, I’ve got all this great stuff and my life’s so grand and this is my fault? It’s not my fault. I just got this handed down to me. Maybe if YOU took charge this conversation wouldn’t be happening. Oh, it’s true. It’s TRUE, man. Shit, I mean, it’s not like I don’t like all this. But come on? Do I know any better? Hell, no, I wouldn’t know any better if YOU didn’t... didn’t... Oh look. Just spilled some fine cognac all over me. Get me a napkin and that other thing... Cloth... A bib. Get me a bib. The one with the bears and shit on it.

You can’t go through life doing this to yourself. Where’s your wife? You don’t know, do you? I’ll tell you where she is. SHE, SHE is at her spinning class like every Thursday night. Why don’t you know this, dude? Whose fault is THAT? I’ll give you two guesses. No, no it’s not me. One more guess. Come on, now... You KNOW this. The ape creatures of the Indus know this. Oh, man, you got it wrong! Alright, hold this thing for a sec for me, will ya? What is it? The thing in your fucking hand, what is it? It’s a mirror. Very good. Do you see how I’m subtly trying to tell you whose fault it is there? See how I did that? Do you? Yeah, cause I did that. I’m sly like that. Sly.

Oh, and, by the way, I heard you yelling at that poor bastard from the insurance company the other day. What a prick you were to that guy! Hey, don’t... You don’t tell me what I can’t say. I can do say what I am want to. And where’s my bib and more cognac? Christ! Yeah, so what, you didn’t read your policy before you signed it so you don’t have a rental for when your car’s in the shop for that accident you caused ‘cause you were calling the wife last Thursday to find out where she was that evening and you rear-ended that guy with the tattoos? Yeah, and YOU were the guy yelling at the adjuster like it was his fault you couldn’t get a rental and now we’re short a car so you can’t go to the Club because it’s Spinning Night. You’re just sad. You’re sad. Ha, ha!

Wh-wha... What was that? Were you... You were just thinking of hitting me! Weren’t you? Yeah, don’t think I didn’t see that. I can see EVERYTHING, man. I have got eyes... I’ve got eyes... everywhere. Yeah, they’re everywhere and now I’ve got my bib, so I can drink my cognac without a care in the world. This is the good stuff. You know, I know you’re a good man. And that’s what makes it so hard for me to see you just going through life like this. You’ve worked hard but now what? Everything that goes wrong because you were in too much of a rush to read the details you blame on someone else. Every time the neighbour comes over and says they’ll call child services if they catch your toddler drunk, passed out on the driveway, you tell them to butt out of your “fucking life”. Man, take some responsibility. When you had me, you had the power to raise me well. And you know what you got now? You’ve got a 10-month-old baby addicted to nicotine and moderately-priced cognac.

How’d that happen? Because you were afraid of me ever crying. You thought if I cried, you’d look like a bad dad. And you know why I cried those first few months? ‘Cause I couldn’t fucking talk. Oh, what, NOW you think you’re going to change things? Start punishing me? Just light me up a Marlboro and refill my drink here. And less ice this time, you cheap fucker. No? NO? Uh oh. I feel some tears welling up... Oh G... Oh God, they’re almost... Almost... Almost, yeah, that’s right. Get up and get me my fucking vices. How’d it come to this, Dad? How? You didn’t want to be brought up like your Dad brought you up? Were you chain-smoking and drinking at 10 months? No? Well, I guess you’re doing better than he did. He did what he thought was best for you, and you know what? DO you know what? No, answer me. Look at me, old man. Fuck, you actually looked. How can a 10 month old baby do this to a grown man? Anyway, he did what was best for you? You had a great childhood, you were taught to be responsible, but you seem to have chucked that away, eh?

I could have respected you, man. I could have respected you, but you didn’t want to earn it. You were afraid of it. You were afraid and now all I’ll ever respect of you is your wallet and your credit cards therein. You’ve got to earn respect. You can’t just go yelling at Mom every Thursday asking her where the fuck she’s been all night. You can’t yell at the insurance guy because of YOUR oversight. Yeah, I see how you’re looking at me. I see it. But you’re not taking this in, are you? You’re not, and I can tell. You’re just furious because you know I’m right but you’re so fucking pig-headed you won’t do anything about it. You’ll just baby your Beemer and your Hummer after having spent 60 hours a week at the office. Not much of a life is it, really? Hey, this cognac tastes like cheap domestic! It IS! You’re cheaping out on me, now. Now you’re cutting corners. Why, because you’ve given in to me. It’s that easy. You can’t afford the good stuff. Oh yeah, it’s my fault. Shut up, old man. I’m about ready to pass out. Can you just put out the smoke before I sleep, that’d be great.

You know, old man. It’s not too late. I’m only 10 months old. Nicotine dependent, yes, but young. You just have to not be afraid to get my respect. Don’t blame everyone else for your fuck-ups. Don’t be afraid. Let me pat you on the back. Yeah, yeah, old man. It’s not just you, though. Mom’s a bitch, too.”