Free Blacklisted from the PTA by Lela Davidson

enjoy the sights, the people, the colored water fountain, and the smooth-but-still-cool-jazz floating through the cool evening air without going home burdened by a bunch of junk I didn’t need.
    Good for me.
    Now groceries, that’s another story. There’s bliss in the aisles of a Sam’s Club—and you don’t even have to dress up.

Best Mom Ever: School Counselor
     

O
N THE WAY TO SCHOOL ONE MORNING MY DAUGHTER WAS CLOSE to tears. “What’s wrong?” I asked. Turns out her oh-sosensitive brother had made an appointment for them to visit the school counselor.
    “We fight all the time,” he explained. “It’s a problem and we need to solve it.”
    “But I didn’t DO anything,” my daughter whined.
    “Don’t worry, Sweetie,” I said. “You’re not in trouble.”
    “But I didn’t do ANYTHING!” Drops pooled in her eyes.
    It occurred to me that if my son insisted on psychological intervention, I could give it to him. I’ve watched Dr. Phil. How hard could it be? Besides, I wanted the juicy details that drove him to seek professional help.
    At breakfast the next day I played counselor.
    “So what would you like to talk about?” I asked.
    My son answered while my daughter averted her eyes.
    “Well, we fight,” he said. “Real bad.”
    My daughter folded her arms and clenched her jaw.
    “Mm-hmm. And how does that make you feel?” I asked.
    “Bad,” said the boy.
    “Bad,” said the girl.
    “Okay. So, you fight and that makes you both feel bad. Is that right?”
    They both nodded.
    “What do you fight about?” They were both quiet for a minute, then looked at each other.
    My daughter spoke up. “Sometimes we play games and he always makes up the powers and he gives himself all the good powers.”
    I shook my head. It always comes down to power.
    “Is this true?” I turned to my son. “Do you repeatedly endow yourself with the superior super powers?”
    “Yes,” he said, hanging his head.
    “How does that make you feel?” I asked my daughter.
    “It sort of makes me feel not listened to.”
    “Okay.” Trying to keep a straight face, I turned to my son. “Did you know you taking all the good powers made your sister feel not listened to?”
    “Yeah.”
    “And how does that make you feel?”
    “Bad.”
    By this time I was starting to feel my own super powers. I’m more of a figure-it-out-yourself kind of Mom, but this babble seemed to be working.
    “So what do you think you guys could do so that you don’t fight so much?”
    “Maybe we could make up the games together?” said the girl.
    “That might work,” said the boy.
    “How would that make you feel if you two didn’t fight anymore?”
    “That would feel good,” they said together with great exhalations of relief.
    Not too shabby Dr. Davidson. I smiled, triumphant. “Now you don’t need to go see the counselor.”
    The Boy’s eyes popped open wide, then narrowed.
    “Yes we do.” His brows knotted.
    “Why? We already solved the problem.”
    “Because, Mom, you’re not the real counselor.”
    At least I got my daughter off the hook. When he finally visited the counselor at school, he went alone.
    “So what did she say?” I was dying to know.
    “She thought you had some pretty good ideas.”
    Ha! Once again, I missed my calling. “So I’m not a total loser?”
    “No, Mom,” he said. “You’re the Best Mom Ever.”
    “Really?”
    “Sure.” And that’s how I learned that sarcasm is genetic.

26 Ways to Torture Children
     
    T
HIS IS A STORY OF REVENGE . B EFORE SCHOOL LET OUT IN THE spring, my son’s class was assigned to write an ABC book. They could choose any topic they wanted as long as they came up with 26 things. My dear son decided to write 26 Ways to Annoy Your Mom. I had to get him back. There are many, many more, but here are my favorite 26 Ways to Torture Children.

A – Always serve spinach, occasionally with a side of mushrooms.
    B – Beat them with a stick. Not hard, just enough to get their