Picture this: I’m trying to find a little peace while taking my morning constitutional (don’t look it up as it is TMI) in my old-style bathroom built for about .5 people, when my daughter starts blowing up my phone with serial texts begging me to take her trick-or-treating. She’s 19.
Simultaneously, my son starts calling “Mom” from down the hall while marble-mouth-mumbling something earth-shattering about his computer. Three dogs–Chihuahua, Beagle, Black Lab–sit in a stair-step row wagging and staring me down for their morning pupperonis (which, by the way, are not stored in the bathroom) while the cat flops around otter-style in the tub.
Really? It’s 6am on a Tuesday.
True story. Nothing like a life full of attachment challenged creatures–dogs, cats, kids. I am starting to think something is seriously wrong with me.
Ce Eshelman, LMFT
Everyone deserves a rescue.