In the days when police officers kept the peace...

debacles like this never occurred if ever.

As the washer and dryer went through the daily spins, the dry belt creaking, whirr, whirr, whirr as it went along like an improvised pet seal, I assured my mother that I will be keeping the loads below the brim. Unfortunately, instead of acknowledging it, she does what she always does every few weeks, and escalates a discussion into a stupid argument, and even threats me with a knife or a fork.

I dialed 911 to report the incident, and I let them know about the situation. Mom sees this as a threat to her soon-to-be-shortened existence, and tells me to leave the house.

There is a reason why I have to call the police. Actually, there are two reasons.

1. Mom just doesn't know when to shut up. I tell her to, she won't acknowledge that she's being as obnoxious, maybe even more of a loose cannon, than I am, so I have to summon an officer to tell her that she's disturbing the quiet of the neighborhood. She does not acknowledge the neighbors unless there is graffiti from the Longos on our family garage door. Actually, that's the only time she does something: when there is graffiti. But that's the thing, if I can't get her to just shut up since she's ruining it for herself as well, I'm going have to get the authority to do it for me.
   
2. If I don't do it, one of the neighbors will, and we're both screwed. Actually, so is my dad, the Man of the House (and one who I haven't had a problem with for several months.) In a neighborhood like West Long Beach, we have what we call Neighborhood Watch. Everyone looks out for each other, and the police are there to make sure our community is safe, and their are no loud disputes that are ruining the others' rest for tomorrow's next battles and challenges.
3. Actually, I'll add a third one. I don't believe in using weapons or war, or any of that stuff. I am a student of learning diplomatic ways to stop conflicts. If I believed in using guns and what have you, none of the members of my family, or me, would be alive today.
   

There's a commandment that says, "Honor your father and your mother." But what if the father/mother does not recognize that their son and/or daughter is honoring their wishes, what good is it? It should be a bigger sin for the parents to not understand that their children is, in their own way, following the commandment.

Sheesh. And my mom goes to church every Sunday. Word up, dear mother, there's this thing called "Confession." I don't go to church anyway, mainly for a reason like this...