Highlights: The photo above was taken after Tommy, on his own accord and without direction or prompting, walked past me and out with the full garbage, dumped it, and returned to put a new bag in the inside canister. I was stunned and expressed sincere gratitude. My work day was good - focused and productive. Jen's found and started applying for some positions internally and externally too. My neck issues flared back up after the work on the dirt in the side alley, so last night's sleep was terrible. I also am experiencing more pain when lifting anything upwards, particularly in my right arm. Each day's healing is 1%, and aggravation sets me back 10% or more. My evening went south when, while trying to make room in our tiny refrigerator, I found a 6-pack of pre-made margaritas that Tommy had stuck in the back out of sight. I removed them and asked him about them. He claimed they were "a friends" and that he brought them home to keep them for him. We collectively told him he could not have them back because he was underage, and as parents, we would not agree to give them back so he could return them to his underaged friend. I opened and dumped them out. He physically accosted me to try and take them away. We wrestled over the box until I tripped him, and they fell and broke. He left us to clean up the mess of broken glass and spilled alcohol, Jen and I in bare feet, and two dogs running amok. It was a messed-up move. No parent should face fighting with their "adult" son, especially over something like this. How that's his priority over having a home and family is beyond me, but after a short-lived stretch of optimism and trust, I'm back to expecting conflict and contention. I'm preparing for the drama when I refuse to live like that. He's failed to follow through on counseling, and if he does not within the next two weeks, all bets are off.