"The Doctor is In"

I felt like Charlie Brown talking to Lucy today. After yet another hideous attempt to drive someplace with both of my children in the van, I dumped them both at 2 separate destinations and then went searching for chocolate. I ended up at the Marble Slab Creamery on Ray Road and I10 (I had just left Kyra at our dentist out there). The kind owner, Scott, inquired as to how I was doing. Poor guy. It was a simple question and I said, "not good, or I wouldn't be here." Somehow I think this man's wife and/or daughters have gone through some emotional times because he was quite sympathetic to my plea. Even after I just shook my head in frustration he said, "no really, tell me about it" as he placed both hands on his glass counter top and tilted his head in that friendly I'm-listening-and-I-care sort of way. Visions of bartenders cleaning out their glasses and patting poor drunk souls on the back as they usher them into cabs flashed before my eyes. We joked about this ice cream bar therapy and I finally blurted out:

"I just want to be able to get my kids in the car without any screaming and any fighting and I want to be able to drive without having to turn around and break up an argument. I dread going anyplace with them and I stayed home all last week because of it. We didn't get to do anything fun and they missed out on some great stuff that I really wanted to do all because I have such anxiety about even getting to the car with them, let alone driving anywhere! I yell at the stupid drivers on the road and yell at the kids because I'm yelling at the drivers! ...and I bet you can't even guess how old they are?!"

That was the question that should have lead to the answer to send me over the top. I was sure he would think they were both in preschool or younger and that they were certainly not at the age of accountability. But no, this blessed man shot back with, "Oh, they could be any age. My kids were doing that until they were 20, especially the girls." AMEN! The choir of angels have sung, chimes are ringing, and maybe I'm not insane!

So, although Charlie Brown never did get any really good advice from Lucy, he usually did walk away feeling better. My price tag was a little stiffer than a nickle, but hey, for $5 not only did I get a little therapy, he topped it off with a white chocolate raspberry sundae in a waffle cone.