“Therapy? You’re making me go to therapy?”
“Not exactly, your brothers therapist wants us all to come in, so she can observe how we interact as a family.”
“I don’t think thats such a good idea..”
“why?”
“Because than she’ll see how messed up the rest of us are.”
My family is far less than functional.
The whole car ride to the office was an arguement over my brothers desire for text messaging.

“This should be interesting.”
I muttered under my breathe.
When we got into the small plain office that was ovveriden by small toys, the real shouting match started.

My sister turned to debbie [the therapist.] and told her just exactly how “happy” she was to be there, on a scale of 1-10 it was negative 450.
Honestly I thought debbie would turn around and smack her upside the head, but instead she plopped down in her chair, took a very deep breathe and started sam talking.