"It must be really big," said Lizzie's mother, pouring a smoothie she made with the blender into a glass.
"Oh, it is. And her refrigerator is full of gluten-free foods and water. I don't know exactly what gluten is; I just know it's bad for you."
"Yeah, people who want to live a healthy life cut gluten out their daily bread."
"You can cut gluten out of bread? What does it look like? Is it the crust?"
"No, daily bread is another term for food."
"So all food is made from bread?"
"No, it's-- It's whatever you think, Lizzie."
"Okay. It's so cool that one of my friends is on her own. When am I going to move out?"
"Well, you should move out when you want. But you got to get a job so you can support yourself."
"But you said I shouldn't get a job."
Lizzie's mother poured the smoothie into another glass. "That's right."
"Well, when should I get one?"
"When you stop running over the neighbor's mailbox."
"He doesn't have a mailbox anymore."
"That's because you keep running over the new ones."
"Well, it's always in the way."
"No, the mailbox always gets put in the same spot."
"It always looked like it was in a different spot."
"Well, it wasn't."
"Can you just give me the money to move out?"
"Lizzie, no. Homes are expensive."
"All you have to do is buy me a condo and I'll try to pay for the food. Or I can come here every day and borrow your food."
"Again, no. I'm not going to buy you a condo, Lizzie. You can stay here."
"Okay. Since I'm staying here, and I'm an adult as well, I think I should change my wardrobe."
Lizzie's mother laughed, setting the blender down on the kitchen island.
"What's so funny?"
"What do you need to change your wardrobe for?"
"I mean, I'm an adult so I should wear what I want."
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Why no?"
"I can't let you throw away your clothes."
"I'm not going to throw them away. I can just sell them. And use the money to buy a condo or something condo-like."
"You can't sell your clothes."
"Why not? They're my clothes."
"Which I bought."
"Well, I didn't tell you to buy them for me."
"If I didn't buy you clothes, you would've went to school naked every day."
"I could've told people that I was a nudist. Ever think of that?"
"No, Lizzie, because that's stupid."
"No, what's stupid is that I'm eighteen years old and you won't let me wear new clothes."
"My house, my rules."
"Well, I don't want to live in your house anymore."
"I'm sorry but you don't have a choice, do you?"
"But I'm an adult. Don't you find me responsible?"
"Eh, most of the time."
"Then why won't you let me be an adult?"
"Lizzie, there's a difference between 'most of the time' and 'every time'."
"Well, isn't 'most of the time' enough? Who can be responsible every time?"
"You'd be surprised."
"It's not fair that I have to live with your rules."
"Are you really getting mad right now? It's just clothes! You're lucky I let you wear skirts that are an inch above your ankles."
"Skirts that are an inch above my ankles are not enough."
"You're so dramatic."
Lizzie turned her head. "Where's dad?"
"He's at work."
She glared at her mom. "You're at work."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"You know what makes sense? I'm moving out!" Lizzie hops off the stool to the island.
"Yeah, right."
"I'm serious.I'm moving out."
"Where are you gonna go?"
"To Madeline's. She'll let me stay at her sweet condo. She's a good friend."
"I'm sure you will." Lizzie's mom took a sip of her drink.
"I'm serious as cereal right now. I'm moving out."
"Serious as cereal? How do I respond to that?"
"You don't have to." Lizzie marched out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. "I'm packing my bags."
"I certainly believe that, Lizzie."
"You think I'm bluffing but I'm not." She walked up the steps. "I'm going upstairs!"
"Aren't you going to drink your smoothie?"
"I don't want your smoothie!"
"You asked for it!"
"Well, I don't want it anymore!"
"Then I'll put it away for later!"
"Okay!" Lizzie shouted from the top of the stairs.
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