BY TONY ZIMBARDI—LE MONS

DADDY TALK

“Sweetie, did I tell you what the kids said this morning as we were walking out the door together,” I ask Antonio. It’s one of those quiet parental moments; the kids are both asleep in their carseats as we drive home from a screening of Tales of Despereaux, past their bedtime on a weeknight no less. “No honey,” he replies, “what did they say?” “Well, we’re walking out the front door, the boys preceded me, and I turn to lock the door and notice a police car slowly driving past the front of our house with the windows down, even though it’s cold out. As I’m locking the front door, the boys turn and yell at the top of their lungs, ‘you’ll never catch us alive, coppers!’ I was horrified.” He laughs. “What did the officer do?” “Actually, it was a female officer. She just looked up and laughed and waved to them as she drove by.” Antonio chuckles. “Some of the stuff they say,” I add sighing.

“Well, I’ve got one for you,” Antonio adds. “I didn’t get to tell you last night, but when I took them shopping at Macy’s yesterday, for about 10 minutes we lost Jaime.” “What?” “Yes,” he goes on, “Edward and I turned around; we’d all come out of the restroom in the store and suddenly, no Jaime! After about 10 minutes we found him. I asked him why he didn’t call for us. You know what he said?” “No, what,” I ask. “He said, ‘I did dad, really, really quietly. I said: help, help.’” Antonio is mimicking him in almost a whisper. “When I asked him why he didn’t yell help,” Antonio continues, “he said, ‘Dad, you always tell me not to yell in public places!” We both chuckle. Just then, Edward starts to rise a bit out of his slumber, and through his sleepiness, adds, “yeah, I thought I’d lost my brother forever, I actually almost cried.” Antonio raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Did you tell dad what you said when we were going into the restroom at the Gay Men’s Chorus holiday concert,” I ask Edward, as he’s now awake. “No, I don’t remember.” “Well,” I turn to Antonio, “I’m taking them toward the men’s room, when the door swings open and this group of men is exiting. The men and the boys almost collide, and without missing a beat, Edward waves them away saying, ‘out of my way, ladies, out of my way!’” Antonio turns toward me. “Yes, I don’t think he had any idea who his audience was,” I add. “What did the men say,” Antonio asks. “Nothing,” I reply, “they just smiled and laughed.”

Just then the Adele CD comes on the car stereo. The boys very quickly and early on developed our taste in music, they begin to sing along. And before you know it, the four of us are chorusing, “Should I give up? Or should I just keep chasing pavements...”

In the next installment: More family tales.

Tony Zimbardi, Psy.D., is a psychotherapist in private practice in West Hollywood. More of his writing can be found at drtonyzimbardi.com.