She was not proud of this phase of her son's life. His room was frequently noisy and having a bass on full blast made the whole house boomy it would seem. And when she saw him come home all woozy she didn't like to think what dodgy stuff he'd been up to that evening. She couldn't confront him because he was so cocky. It would appear that the house pets, the doggy and moggy, had the same caution about him too because they skedaddled whenever he was around. Somehow he was on good terms with his pet rat, although it was clearly overfed and looking quite podgy. Whenever one of his friends called for him she heard his gobby chatter with dismay as they set off down the road for yet another evening out. One day she took a peak in his room and was distraught to see the gooky splodges on the carpet and the walls. Confrontation was inevitable. Next time he came downstairs in the morning she stopped him - "You are being very goofy and are throwing your life away. You can't go on as you are and live here. If you want to live here, we're going to have a discussion about some acceptable behaviour guidelines. Otherwise you have two weeks to find somewhere else to live".
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