Yes, My Husband’s a Therapist . . .

Today Brandon approached us with the following problem: he likes to chew on things during school, mainly the neck of his shirt, for which I’ve been constantly telling him not to do. It stretches out the neck and leaves the shirt misshapen.

Brandon himself identified this behavior as an oral fixation, but decided that he’d rather try something else than try to stop the habit cold turkey. He had the following conversation with his father while I was cooking dinner:

Brandon: I want to stop chewing on my shirt, but sometimes I just want to chew on something during school and we can’t have gum.
Chris: I understand. Have you ever thought about taking up smoking?
Brandon: DAD! Smoking is bad for you and it will kill you!
Chris: Well, we all have to die sometime.

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2 Responses

  1. Is this a case of the cobbler’s children have no shoes?

    The personalities of your family really are coming out in your blog. I love it.

  2. Exactly. Brandon will be spending hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars a year in therapy to overcome the warped sense of humor he inherited/learned from us.

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