Dear Therapist,
First of all, I hope I’m still alive. Or at least frozen at that cryogenetic lab chamber place somewhere in Riverside, California (you know, the same one Walt Disney is at too) that I specifically requested in my Will, written in blood. If not, please call my lawyer and have him serve subpoenas to my entire family, right away.
If my daughter is there, and has done something crazy, or illegal, such as robbing a bank, listening to the Beatles, cross-breeding a cat with a dog, repeats “Elvis works at 7-11” to strangers, claims Barry White as her paternal father, joined a “Trekkie” cult, etc. and is blaming me for her mistakes, I want you to understand why it may not be entirely my fault.
You see - Barry White really is her father. Have her talk to them. And her mother.
Thank you,
Tony
5 comments:
Hahahaha...Nothing like a good, old-fashioned disclaimer! Do you think the Elvis thing had anything to do with it? I've often thought about writing a similar letter but figured that with health care costs climnbing, let my daughter's therapist figure the shit out himself!
There is a very good chance Barry White is all of our fathers, or at least responsible for setting the mood for our conceptions.
p.s. nice links.
Metrodad is right. By the time our kids actually get into therapy the costs will be enough to put us in our graves.
I see no reason to help someone put me six-feet-under. Assuming they will actually have a funeral for me.
I think Elvis (and a whole lot of other things, I've done by now and will probably end up doing in the future) will contribute to it.
I do like the idea of the therapist testing his skills though. As long as I'm not paying for it...
LOL! Good job with the disclaimer. And hey, it’s a good thing you wrote this letter! At least your daughter’s future therapist would know what he or she is up against. Hehe!
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