Mental cavities

Last night over dinner my husband was telling the kids about a program he'd watched the night before on the local cable station. It was a couple of psychologists talking to parents about how to keep an eye on their teenagers for warning signs of depression or anxiety, and how to approach the subject of professional help. There was stuff about keeping the lines of communication open and explaining that everyone needs help sometimes and being honest about it. One of the psychologists said, "here is an example of what not to do: a family came in to see me a few weeks ago; a mother and father and a very angry teenaged boy. I introduced myself to the boy and asked him why he was so angry, and he said 'You're NOT a DENTIST'."

We all laughed. Then Matt said another thing the psychologists said was to not let your kid get away with just saying 'good' or 'fine' when you ask him how his day was. We both looked pointedly at Angus, who had just five minutes before said 'good' when we asked him how his day was. He looked panicked and then said "uh, I walked down the hallway, then I put my jacket in my locker, then I said hi to Noah and went in my classroom....".

We speculated on how weird it was going to be the next time we told one of them they had a dentist appointment. Eve walked over to the calendar and pretended to read "'fake dentist appointment' - what the heck?"

My computer is wonky today so this is all you get. It was funnier before I typed it out. I hate when that happens.

Angus is currently sitting on the piano stool trying to spin it around to the point where the seat falls off. Do you think that means he needs professional help?