Edible Complex

Family Therapy?

Last week, dad told mom they needed to lay down the law with me. Within seconds, a shouting match erupted and that went on until dad said we needed to see a family counselor. What old crusty didn’t realize, however, is that mom knew he was the problem, not me. Mom scheduled an appointment with a therapist. His name was Grégoire Paramour, L.P.S.W. (pronounced Gregwire Paymore, Lips).

When we sat down, he asked us to tell our story. Dad complained that I was overly attached to mom. To illustrate his point, he said I still ask to sleep with them when I’m frightened. Dad continued with a long yarn of accusations, saying mom had coddled and cossetted me for 75 years, and I was spoiled rotten.

Mr. Paramour then turned to mom and asked what she thought.

Fighting back tears, mom looked at dad and said, “Fuller, you’ve never felt an ounce of compassion for our son. You’ve done nothing but whine for 75 years that Empty needs a spanking.” Then, she turned to Mr. Paramour and said, “And Imight have let him spank Empty if he had taken a kinder, gentler approach. Every time I suggested a less aggressive paddling, he said my duty was to be quiet, back him up and cheer when Empty yelped. The problem was never Empty.”

When mom finished, Mr. Paramour asked for my two cents. Laying on his couch, I said, “Mommy, I mean mom, is right; the problem is dad.” Then I launched into a long list of my problems over the years, and tied each one back to something dad said or did a long time ago.

Mr. Paramour interrupted me in the middle of one story and said, “Thank you, Empty. I think I’ve heard enough. What’s going on here is a family-sized edible complex. Fuller, you’re jealous of the doting Empty receives from his mother. China, you’re an enabler. Empty, you’re still growing. I suggest we continue these sessions. We have much work to accomplish, but we can make progress this week. China, practice saying ‘No.’ Stop the enabling! Fuller, you need to step back, count to ten and breathe. Empty, I suggest you take on a new responsibility. Why don’t you help your parents with dinner? I’d like all of you to keep a journal and report back to me next week.”

We were happy when we went home, but it didn’t last long. Mom got up at midnight and started to prepare a meal for me. When she dropped a pot, dad woke up and came in to ask what mom was doing. She reminded him that I had an edible complex. I added that I was growing and that I needed to help them eat dinner. Dad said that I had an oedipal complex, not an edible complex. Then, he told mom to look up oedipal in the dictionary. She said, “No, I’m finished enabling you. Fuller.”