We All Will Need Therapy

 Cap'n Chaos Spring Concert. I went up a day early. 

 This was all in just one day. I had to keep notes in my phone. The trauma I mean drama was happening so fast.

  Brandy wanted a new bra — not just any bra, but a statement piece. The moment we turned toward Victoria’s Secret, Rob and Sir WhatTheHeck peeled off like they were avoiding a crime scene and vanished into the LEGO store. They didn’t even pretend to hesitate. They were GONE.

   Inside, Brandy found the bra — a beautiful pink one with wide, glittery straps. It won't be a bra strap showing, it will look intentional. Mother approved. Rob nearly choked at the sticker price, but he said she works hard for her money, get what she wants. She did.

  Later at home, Rob brought out a little very adult puppet book about a male anatomy and it's many adventures. The boys were embarrassed as mom began reading this book. She was laughing so hard she didn't get far.

 Earlier Brandy put on a white shirt, let one shoulder drop, and that glitter strap was shining like a runway light. She looked fabulous.

 I said,  “Brandy, your bra strap is really pretty.” The boys thought the little book was embarrassing, Mema just turned it up a notch.

My grandsons will need therapy for sure.

Rob told us stories about the boys when they were little. 

They were walking on the sidewalk, there on the wall was a glob of chewed bubble gum the size of a small rodent. Sir WhatTheHeck saw it. He wants it.  He GRABBED it and is stretching it ready to put it into his mouth.  Rob grabbed him while yelling NO!!

Sir WhatTheHeck quickly wiped  bubble gum all down his shirt like it’s a napkin from Olive Garden. By the time they got home, that child looked like he’d been rolled in a cotton candy machine and left to dry. 

 Another time, they were at a nice restaurant. Cap'n Chaos was being potty trained, and needed to go. Rob the  hands on dad took him to the restroom.

 Rob barely got the pull up down and had Cap'n Chaos hovering over the toilet when Cap'n Chaos unleashed like a firehose stream that had NOTHING to do with the toilet.  Rob was dodging like he’s in The Matrix.  He’s holding Cap'n Chaos over the toilet so he doesn’t fall in and drown.  The stream is hitting everything except the toilet. Cap'n Chaos pants were soaked. Rob strips them off. He set Cap'n Chaos down and turned around for ONE second to grab paper towels. ONE. SECOND. And in that second?  Cap'n Chaos has BOTH HANDS in the urinal. Just… scrubbing it. Like he’s helping the janitor.

Rob: “CAP'N CHAOS! NO!”

Cap'n Chaos, startled, wipes BOTH HANDS on his shirt. At this point the shirt is dead to the world. Rob removes it like it’s radioactive.  He washes Cap'n Chaos hands, arms, torso, soul — whatever he can reach. They return to the table.

Brandy: “Why is my baby naked?”

Rob: “We have to go home. NOW.”

Brandy could fall asleep anywhere. Not a cat nap out like Rocky on a bad day.

  After hearing the bathroom story? She earned that sleep.  She deserved a trophy.

  She survived two toddlers who were basically a tag team of bodily fluid chaos.

  Brandy said she woke up from a tiny cat nap — the kind where you close your eyes for 12 seconds and your soul leaves your body. She opens her eyes…And there’s Sir WhatTheHeck. With his little bucket. Filled with dirt. From OUTSIDE.  Then he got cups of water from the bathroom

Rob: “It was the toilet. I know my boys.”

Brandy: “Let’s hope not.”

But it was the coffee table. Sir WhatTheHeck had dirt and he had cups of water.  He was making mud pies. On. The. Coffee. Table. Just mixing and patting and sculpting like he was auditioning for a pottery show.  And the house? White carpet. White tile. White counters. White everything. A color scheme that says: “We don’t have children.” Except they DID. Two of them. And one was currently building a mud bakery in the living room.

  That was just one of their many adventures.

I had to set my coffee down for this next one because I was laughing so hard I almost baptized my keyboard.

They gave him a 'birds and the bees' crash course that neither of them will ever recover from.

Sir WhatTheHeck (18, dramatic, exhausted): “They made me watch stick figures doing it.”

Me : “WHAT IN THE WHAT?” 

Sir WhatTheHeck: I was ten, not yesterday. 

That did not help!

Rob, calm as a man who has seen things: “Well… he was looking at inappropriate pictures online. So if he’s curious, we showed him how humans are formed until they’re born.”

Sir WhatTheHeck: “I’ll be scarred for life.”

Me: “Wait… they have stick figure cartoons doing THAT? Who makes that?!”

Rob: “It’s from Sweden. It’s educational. Not stick figures. A cartoon he could understand.”

Me: “Well now I’m scarred for life.”

Sir WhatTheHeck thought he was about to get in trouble. Instead, he got a scientific documentary he did NOT ask for. I thought he was looking at literal stick figures. Rob was trying to be responsible. Brandy was probably in the background like, “This is gonna be a good one for the books.”  Me? I’m just trying to understand why Sweden is out here making educational cartoons that traumatize American teenagers.

But the chaos wasn't over. Cap'n Chaos walked in from school and immediately raised everyone's blood pressure..."

After the concert last night, Cap'n Chaos walked home half a mile in the dark. Half a mile of anything could happen. It was late when he got home, The lectures began as soon as he got home from school the next day.

 “You don’t walk alone at night. you CALL us. People have been killed on that trail. You are not invincible.” 

Cap'n Chaos, unfazed, shrugs: “I’m not afraid of that homeless guy under the bridge. Why does he need fourteen bicycles?”

Me: “He’s probably stealing them.”

Rob: “Oh, he is.”

Cap'n Chaos: “This homeless person (he was being politically correct until he said:  oh — 

I just call them Ho-mos for short.”

Me: “NO. You cannot do that. That word means something else.”

Cap'n Chaos ignores me like I’m background music  “Yeah, this ho-mo is really good at it. He’s so good he could give tips to other people who want to be homeless.”

Me: “WAIT. WHAT? Who wants to be homeless?”

Cap'n Chaos wasn’t trying to insult anyone — he was literally abbreviating the word “homeless” like he was writing a grocery list.  I tried to save him from accidentally inventing a slur. He bulldozed right past me Then he casually suggested homelessness is a skill set people aspire to.

Cap'n Chaos, the Rose Tattoo, and the Descent Into Madness

The moment the conversation went from “normal family talk” to “we need a chaperone.”

Cap'n Chaos strolls in from school with a rose drawn on his arm like he’s auditioning for a biker gang made of  Freshmen.

Me: “Who is writing on your arm?”

Cap'n Chaos, casual as a cat in a sunbeam: “Chelsea.”

Rob: “Does she have a boyfriend?”

Cap'n Chaos: “No, she’s almost special needs, and the school doesn’t let you date the special needs kids.”

Rob: “How do you know this?”

Cap'n Chaos: “I just know.”

Me: “Is it written in the handbook? ‘No dating special needs kids’?”

Rob: “DO NOT go ask. I do NOT want to be called into the principal’s office because you want to date someone with special needs.”

And that’s when the conversation fell off a cliff.

Cap'n Chaos: “Mom hits me like I’m adopted.”

Me: “You still haven’t told him?”

Brandy: “MOM. NO. Shhhhh.”

We’re tag teaming on poor little Cap'n Chaos. Now he thinks he might be adopted.

Yeah, Cap'n Chaos will definitely need therapy one day.

  Every single person in that room was having a different crisis: Cap'n Chaos was just vibing, saying whatever popped into his head. Sir WhatTheHeck was leaning against the wall, looking like he was mentally calculating how many years of therapy it would take to forget the Swedish cartoons. Rob was trying to prevent a school-wide scandal. I was trying not to choke on my laughter. This wasn’t a conversation. This was a family avalanche."