Mental Health Day

Listen to: Live from the Hovel on the hill, No.21

(apostrophes and quotes removed on purpose, ...its complicated....)

Mental health day

Heres some good advice, never give a son a mental health day, especially when you have more than one son. Not if you dont want to spend the rest of your life explaining to the others, why today is not a mental health day.
I have no idea where the concept came from, or even why suddenly I have to deal with it. If it was likely I might get one then, maybe it would be worth it. But Im not, so it isnt.
My 15 year old mentioned the whole mental health day issue to me, in whining terms, the first day after spring vacation. Absolutely, that is when a young mans mental health is most threatened; after a week of lying on the couch and video gaming his brains out.
I gave his suggestion due consideration, looked at it from every side, weighed the pro and cons and then threw him out the door on to the bus. It did wonders for my mental health.
Unfortunately the idea was still hanging around for the next three weeks, darkening each night, clouding up breakfast and generally threatening to become the main focus of every conversation. So, I though about it some more, counted up the days he had actually been absent from school, calculated the time of least impact and gave in.
Thats when the second front began. It was just like the story of the little Dutch boy, except I had pulled my finger from the dike for a second. Whistling and walking away were no longer an option. The water was coming through and it was time to look for scuba gear.
My youngest was appalled. How did this happen? For years he had tried every conceivable disease, every delaying tactic. He had even tried holding on to the kitchen table and when that failed, running for the hills. And here, his brother has accomplished the impossible, a full and free day home from school, with a mere mention of mental health.
His campaign began immediately. He whined. He threatened. He exhibited every sign of insanity he could think of, and then researched the internet for more. He told me that the unfairness of the situation had caused him to have a split personality, and now he needed two Mental health days.
I told him he had a problem. I pointed out that he had already taken more than his fair share of days, and that any more could result in a mental health year while he repeated the fourth grade. Unfortunately, it was risk he was willing to take.
Pretty soon his attacks broke down into 3 categories. The oh, Please, please, P l e s e! ploy, the This is so unfair! I hate you! frontal assault and the desperate You promised! attack from the rear. I thought I was holding up pretty well. But like his brother, he was relentless.

Dad, this is your last chance. I am taking a mental health day tomorrow.

Tomorrows no good, going to rain all day. What about some time in July?

Thats summer vacation!

Not for you, Im planning on getting you a tutor.

Thats it! I hate you forever! Good bye!

Good for you. I hate me too! I stink!

I mean it! I’m leaving home!

Ok. Hey, take one of these smelly dogs with you will ya? You might get hungry.

Dad!

Somehow, he felt that his room was sufficiently far enough to have left home. Still, I folded about a week later, for reasons of mental health, mine.

This is the last one ever. Period, never again.

What! I get one a year! That’s the deal!

Yes, one a year, after your 26th birthday.

Dad!




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