I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was playing baseball in my drive way with friends. The kitchen window of my apartment overlooked our playing field as if it were a posh suite at Lincoln Financial Field. I would occasionally yell up to my mom in an effort to coax her head out the window. My plan was to show off my home run power with a wiffle ball bat. She would always play along as I came away with mix results.
I guess this Mary Jane mom is simply trying to support her son as he tries to swing for the fences and achieve financial success.
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