A Note to My Daughter’s Future Therapist: Good Luck with That

We have all seen blogs/columns whatever with titles like, “To the Woman Who Will Marry My Son” or “To the Man Who Will Ask My Daughter to Marry Him,” written by parents with children too young to know what their sexuality is. It is, therefore, with great pleasure, I bring you this blog written to “My Daughter’s Future Therapist.”
And, those of us who think that most of the people we ever talk to do not compare to sitting somewhere by ourselves reading a good book can identify with the daughter rebelling against her mother’s rule to put down her book in favor of dinner conversation, while those with children they hope will grow up to have decent social skills will empathize with the plight of the mother.


One of the many attributes that my daughter inherited from me was a love of reading.  This can be good, but also has a bad side.  We get addicted to books.  We wallow in them.  As a result, we both have the horrible habit of reading during meals.  Since my husband is not a big reader, and it seems a bit rude to completely ignore him the few times a week he is able to join us for a meal, I established the “3-Person Rule.”  When there are 3 or more people at the table, no one can be reading.

According to my daughter, this is the equivalent of being banished to Guantanomo.  At least 3 times a week, it’s only the two of us at the table because I have to feed her before one of her extra-curricular events and my husband is not home, yet.  So, she is…

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