Jason, a down-on-his-luck twentysomething

I awoke to gentle tapping on my door. I sat up suddenly and saw daylight streaming through my window. Shit.

I called out that I'd be down soon and started dressing. I'd been laid off months ago, and after exhausting my meager savings on food and rent I had to move back in with my parents. I'd been there a month and my parents had not stopped hounding me about my job search since. As usual, my mom gently but firmly made it clear that I wasn't supposed to sleep past 9:00; to her, a job search should be a full-time job.

As I stumbled downstairs in my pajamas I wondered how much job searching they thought I could do on a Sunday. Still, their house, their rules. I noted bitterly that my dad still wasn't up. His weekends were still his to spend how he wanted.

My mom was upstairs so I started a pot of coffee. While I stood in the kitchen waiting for it I made myself a bowl of cereal. As I was finishing up my dad lumbered downstairs. Without a word, he started pouring himself a cup.

"...a little gratitude might be nice," I muttered. He looked at me quizzically for a second, then shrugged.

"It would," he agreed noncommittally. I decided to ignore his passive-aggressive response as my mom walked in.

She grimaced at the smell of the fresh coffee. "I hope I made the coffee how you like it. I felt like doing something nice for you so I thought I'd have it ready when you woke up."

My dad and I stared at her in confusion. He spoke first. "Cynthia, honey, I made this coffee."

Even more confused, I spoke up. "Guys, I just made it." They looked at me for a second and both nodded.

"Well, I hope it's good," my mom said.

"Why wouldn't it be?” my dad asked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. My dad looked down guiltily. "I'm sorry, hon. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

My mom sounded equally chagrined. "No, it's my fault. This is a stupid thing to fight about."

"Why are you acting like I'm not here? Are you messing with me?" I was getting frustrated.

"I don't know why you would be." My dad followed up. "I don't really mean that, I guess sometimes I feel like you ignore me."

My mom looked confused now. "Honey, I know I'm saying some really mean stuff through Jason, and I'm sorry. It's all coming out wrong! No matter what I try to tell you this morning it just seems so aggressive and harsh."

I was at a loss for words. I just finished my coffee and put the mug in the sink.