SON: And how do I live? MOTHER: If you have to ask, don’t expect me to tell you. SON: Oh, I see. So you don’t want to live with me. Then what do you want? You can’t just sit in this house and vegetate. You can’t sit and watch television all day. MOTHER: I won’t just sit and watch television. I have plenty to do. SON: Like what? MOTHER: I’ve got cleaning. SON: Yeah? MOTHER: I’ve got bills to pay. SON: Yeah? MOTHER: I’ve got plenty to do. Don’t worry about me. Scene 2. The garage. The cinerary urn is on the roof of the car. The son is cleaning the windshield with a rag. The sound of a ball game can be heard coming from inside the car. SON: You know, Dad, if she finds out about this, we’re both dead. (Suddenly, there is a lot of excitement on the radio.) Wait a minute. Listen. All right. Kingman hit a homer! Go Mets! You know, Dad, you should have waited out the season. The Mets might just make it to the pennant. (He starts whistling “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”.) How did you whistle the way you did, Dad? You couldn’t sing, you couldn’t play a musical instrument. How did you do it? (He whistles some more, then falls flat.) You know, Dad, I have to tell you this car is pretty ugly. I know, you don’t have to remind me, I picked it out. But that’s because it was the only one they had with a V-8 engine. I knew how you loved V-8s. Remember the Packard – the ‘53 Packard? That was a straight 8. Remember that? Those days are gone forever. You know Dad, I never did tell you this, but that