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The Therapy Sessions
Friday, September 16, 2005

Like a scene from a cartoon...

This morning, I was coming down the stairs, I noticed that Timmy was not in the living room. I found him rummaging around in his daycare bag, where his breakfast and lunch were packed.

He was eating his toast.

I told him to put it all back, and he made a show of doing so.

Reluctantly. (Timmy loves to eat.)

A recent trick of his is to fall down suddenly and start crying, expecting everyone to immediately feel sympathy for him and hug him.

He knew I was angry , so he gave it a try.

But something went horribly wrong. In the middle of his simulated fall, a hidden piece of contraband toast fell from his grasp and onto the middle of the floor.

When I silently watched his display of mock pain, he looked up to make me feel guilt.

Then he saw the toast, and he realized he was in more trouble than before. He tried to reach for it, to cover it up and hope that I had not seen it.

But Titus the Dog had seen the toast too, and he got there first.

Timmy cried for a very long time.

Busted. Exposed as a Fraud. Busted again. Dissed by the dog.

Still hungry.

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