My point there was that in reference to him bringing the things up that he did, maybe he did because very often people in their early twenties make rash or impulsive decisions that they regret later on.
I still think that he questioned his patient the way a parent would question a child, rather than offering a statement or two about how reversing it in the future could have a lot of difficulties.
Kid: "I wanna spend my whole allowance on cannnnnndy!!!!"
Parent: "You might want to use some of the money to buy a new Battlebot later."
Kid: "Candy! Candy!"
Parent: "What if the toy store has the GI Joe with kung-fu grip? Do you think you might want it? You'd have to save some money for it."
Kid: "I. Want. CANDY!!!!"
Parent: "What if we're at Wal-Mart and you see a video game you want? Then you'll be sorry that you spent all your money on candy."
Kid: "Candy! I'll cut you, I swear. CANDY!!!!"
Guy waiting in dentist's office next door leaps over kid's head
"Candy, candy, candy, candy, candy..."
I love my mentor. we're discussing a stubborn problem, and I say over IM: "What if that doesn't work? Go to Florida and kick him?" And my mentor says, "No, you can't go, hire a kickman."
"Yo, Vinnie! We got a call! We're headin' over to Sarasota to kick a guy!"
Man, if I hadn't already had "I Want Candy" in my head, that would have done it for sure.
Guy waiting in dentist's office next door leaps over kid's head
"Candy, candy, candy, candy, candy..."
I admit, I have candy on the brain, because I have everything for my Secret Santa and just need to stop at Trader Joe's on the way home to get some candycandycandy (and their version of Oreos -- Trader Jo-Jos -- that have peppermint cream filling) and I can send out the package.
I had half of an eggnog shake from Jack in the Box. It almost negated all of my angst from the trip I had to make to the post office.
I so want a kickman at my beck and call.
But the printers just sent me wine. That'll do. For now.
It almost negated all of my angst from the trip I had to make to the post office.
I didn't get angst from my trip to the post office. I got distain. There were these feeelthy hipster late teen boys. Why can't they wash their hair? Why are their jeans so tight as to make blobs of flesh ooze over the waist when these are rail thin boys? When was the last time he washed that jacket? Can't they even try to look like they don't smell?
