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: I know what you think, that I was too lenient, that I let him get away with...
[Ruth interrupts him, smashing a plate on the floor
: EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING!
: He needs his head in school, not in her. Matt
: So to speak.
] Ruth Fowler
: Did you do it?
: [sees Franks has been punched in the eye
] So what are you going to do about it? Frank Fowler
: I don't know... take karate.
] Ruth Fowler
: Matt, do you want some coffee?
: Do you wanna know why our son is dead? Do you really wanna know? He went there not because of me. He was with her not because of me. He went there because of you. Because you are so controlling, so overbearing, so angry, that he was it! That he was our only son! Ruth
: That is not true! Matt
: Oh, yes it is. Yes, it is. Ever since he was little, you were telling him how he was wrong. I remember, one time you yanked him out of a little league game and sent him home, for throwing his glove in the dirt. He was what? Nine years old. Everything he did was wrong. Well, what was wrong with him, Ruth? You are so unforgiving. You are. That's what he said. And now you're pulling the same shit with me, and that's a horrible way to be. It's a horrible. You're bitter, Ruth. And you can point your finger all you want at me, but you better take a damn good look at yourself first.