Carlton cleared his throat and inhaled deeply, steeling himself before he opened the door.

Finally, he was ready.

His fingers slowly reached for the knob, but quickly retreated before he could turn it.

"You can do this, Carlton…" he mumbled under his breath as he began to pace nervously. "How hard can it be?... Just walk in there…tell her how it's going to be…"

He stopped again, facing the door with a resolute sigh.

"Mom, I'm going to be a cop'…" He said firmly, practicing. "…'Mom, I'm going to be a cop'…"

He nodded again, resigning himself to the task at hand, and turned the knob.

This time, he actually got the door all the way open before he hesitated.

He almost slammed it shut again and ran away, but it was too late. From the kitchen, he heard her voice.

" Carlton? Is that you?"

He didn't answer right away.

Mom…I'm going to be a cop…He chanted in his mind, certain he'd forget the words the moment he saw her.

Mom…I'm going to be a cop…

Mom…I'm going to be a cop…

" Carlton?"

She sounded nervous now.

"Yeah, Mom." He answered, finally managing to make his feet and mouth work simultaneously as he walked into the kitchen.

"What are you doing lurking in the doorway?" She scolded. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"No, Mom." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I wasn't trying to give you a heart attack."

"Well, sit down!" She ordered, already bustling to get their customary tea ready.

He sat.

"Mom…" he started, clearing his throat deliberately.

But she wasn't listening.

"How's your girlfriend?" She asked, putting the kettle on.

"Fine. Mom, listen--"

"So you didn't dump her yet?" She asked with a reproaching glare, placing a tea cup on the table in front of him.

"No." He snapped. "I didn't dump her. I told you--"

"I'm just saying, Carlton…" she continued, still purposefully unaware he was trying to speak. "You could do better."

Carlton picked up the cup absently, turning it over in his hands as he tried to get the words out while her back was still to him.

"Mom! Listen!"

She was back at the table now, pouring the boiling water into their cups before she finally took a seat across from her son.

"She's too skinny, that one." She commented as she slowly dipped her tea bag into the water. "And she has shifty eyes."

"She doesn't have shifty eyes."

"I think she stole one of my tea cups."

"She didn't steal anything!"

Carlton was almost shouting now. He pushed the cup away and stood up again.

"Mom, listen to me!" He ordered. "I have to tell you something!"

"What?"

"Mom…I'm going to be a cop." He recited, impressed with himself for remembering every word.

She stared up at him, blinking slowly.

Finally, she stood up and silently crossed to the counter.

When she turned around again, she was holding a knife.

" Carlton, if you're trying to kill me, just use this."

Carlton rolled his eyes, taking the knife away from her and tossing it on the table.

"Stop it! It's not going to kill you if you I become a cop."

"Yes, it will." She insisted firmly. "You know I have a weak heart."

"Your heart is fine. You just had a physical."

"You're supposed to be a musician…" she sobbed dramatically, dabbing her eyes. "You had such talent!"

"I don't want to be musician!" He argued, knowing it was pointless. "Or a lawyer or a doctor or anything. Mom, look…this is what I want to do. This is what I have to do. Okay? I'm going to be a cop."

She crossed her arms stubbornly.

"No." She said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"I said no," she repeated herself with a sharp shake of her head. "You're not becoming a cop. I forbid it!"

"You can't--"

"Oh, yes I can! I'm your mother!"

"I'm twenty-two years old!"

"I can still ground you!"
"No, you can't!"

He marched to the door, more resolute than ever.

She was right on his heels.

"You can't ground me!" He yelled, swinging the door open and stepping outside. "And I'm doing it, Mom! I'm going to be a cop!"

She followed him onto the front porch, yelling after him as he stormed to his car.

" Carlton Lassiter! You get back in here! I told you you're grounded!"

He slammed his car door and started the engine, sighing in relief as he pulled away.

She was still standing on the porch, shaking her fist at him as he drove off.

"Well, that went better than I expected," he mumbled to no one in particular. "…Now I just have to tell her I'm getting married…"