As I've mentioned, our son promptly moved a "friend" from the homeless shelter into his tiny apartment (the one he shop-lifted with four days later). We'll call him C. Then he moved in his "friend" "K" from college (who also didn't go to class and failed everything just like my son). Apparently, there have been a lot of people there, which kind of blows me away since it's literally smaller than my office, but I digress. I get a call from son today..."How do you put an APB out on a piece of property?" I say, "Well you have to call the police; what's missing?" A piece of musical equipment that belongs to K. "Well the police will watch the pawn shops, unless you can tell them who took it." He's pretty darn sure. Turns out C's father picked him up today...he apparently is going to jail somewhere for something for 60 days (does my kid know how to pick friends or what?) and lo and behold, the equipment went missing at the same time. My son's remark was something along the lines of..."It's just messed up that someone would stay here for a month and then steal something." I wanted so badly to say, "Really? REALLY? Wow! Some homeless man you knew about two months took your hospitality and betrayed you? How shocking! WAIT UNTIL IT'S THE CHILD YOU GAVE BIRTH TO AND RAISED FOR 19 YEARS!" But I didn't. The evil thoughts did not leave my lips. It wasn't my son's stuff that got stolen anyway, so he still doesn't know how it feels.