Parents

I was working for two hours straight on an acoustic version of Hair, and you don’t make a comment that rates how good my piano playing was? Then you yell at me to stop playing because if my sister cries, you won’t be able to hear her. Then I go to the bedroom to watch her, and you go and let my dad have the stereo blaring! Man, The Eagles sound good, but what about working for hours trying to perfect something your own son composed?