"But this is still descriptive", I mumble to myself, posting it anyway

             “I’m staying home, sorry. I don’t have money.”

            Yeah, whatever, Julia. And where are you now? On my couch drinking while your child is being sat by one. And I bet that the kid hasn’t gotten pimples. I bet you called her mom up thinking you’d be saving yourself time and your wallet. Then you maxed your credit card on an Uber to get over here. God. And you claim you could advise people with their finances.

            And there she goes, tipping.

            I can’t do anything but shake my head. I grab the water pitcher, fill a cup, and walk over to her.

            “Get your parents to raise him, would you? He won't buy a house with your habits. Watch, he’ll slack in school and leech off his friends for candy and soda.”

            She fixes her posture, smoothing her bun, and glares at me. I continue. “You’ll have to find a husband if you want to live off your 401k. HAH!”