"Mom, can we change the script today? I've heard your old stories about a hundred times already."
Wyatt Perry's ears are about to grow calluses.
Is his mother planning to torture him all night?
If that's the case, why bother coming here to show filial piety? He might as well go back to the office and work overtime; at least his ears could have some peace.
Mrs. Perry got angry hearing this: "I think the only place you dare show off is in front of your mother. If you have guts, go win over Claudia Ross, and I'll admit you're tough."
Wyatt replied calmly: "Even being a wuss runs in the family."
"Yes, it's hereditary. You got it from your wuss of a father." Mrs. Perry put her hands on her hips: "Having a wuss for a husband is bad enough, but also a wuss of a son! You're driving me crazy!"
Wyatt cast a glance at Mrs. Perry: "Clearly, it's from you."
"Me? How am I a wuss?" Mrs. Perry was indignant, she was always assertive, if people only appreciated her.
