Poor Man’s Therapy

“You know,” Younger mused while we drove to an appointment. “I’ve decided I’m the second most mature person in our family.”

I cast him a sidelong glance. “I’m assuming I’m the one you consider the most mature?”

“Well, yeah.” He gave me a puzzled look. “Have you not met the rest of us?”

Uhmm, yes.

Yes, I have.

Why do you think I write?

Because it’s cheaper than therapy.

And alcohol.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s