"What kind of shit question is that?" Margaret reached for her glass, while casting a baleful glance at her daughter. "Do you regret having the boys because they don't measure up to all the things you wanted for them?" She took a sip. "No, I don't regret having you. I never regretted having you. Regretted that I didn't know better what to do with you sometimes because you were nothing like I was at the same age. But, that's the way things go. Lord knows I was nothing like my mamma, either.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Honey. All mothers have that moment, when they look around and wonder what the hell happened to the plan? How did they end up here when they were headed there? The boys are trying to find their feet and that's what you have to do, too."