You live in my house. You eat my food. You wear the clothes that I 
provide for you. You enjoy all the benefits from being a member of my family.
But I have told you time and time again to keep your room clean, and you don’t. I have told you time and time again to take the trash out on Thursday night, and you don’t. I have told you time and time again to pick up after the dog goes, and you don’t.
So I really don’t consider you to be my son, anymore. I am telling you to leave my home. I don’t love you anymore.
Is that how it works with us? Is that how our parents treated us? Is that how we treat our children?
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I removed the sentence about ‘Mr. Washer’ from the post.
It was not very charitable of me, and I was wrong to have it there to begin with.
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The Old Adam Lives! 