Gloom at home tonight. My son stole a pen from a shop this evening and admitted it after a lot of cross-examination and threats, big and small scale. My shocked parents have already spent some tears on the incident, I've played good cop-bad cop act, many stories and their morals have followed and my son has finally slept off fearing that the situation may be worse when his father arrives home. Actually we all have been quite unhappy with my son for the past few days - he got caught copying his teacher's signature in his rough notebook in the class, I've found some stray things not belonging to him in his bag which he says he never put so there is a general mistrust when we are dealing with him. I'm particularly sad remembering the times when he was a boy I always had faith on; he was like that and that was not very long ago. I think I need to spend more time with him, I've hardly done that in the past few months. I'm spending my energies mostly on the younger one and neglecting my son. I know my son misses me, he told me so in such earnest words just the other day. I hope he'll come out of this mess fine, I'm going to help him.
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