A Child's Tears Are The Best Therapy



Today’s the day.
For the past two weeks, I’ve been clearing my afternoon calendar and sticking reminders all over my house and office.
It may seem piddling to most people. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got an appointment to interview the president or a date to accept a Pulitzer Prize.
However, I need only remember the tears in my son’s eyes last year to know there’s n
o room for compromise. I have to be there. And I can’t, I just can’t, be late!
Oct. 4 is the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi, patron saint of animals, which means Father Bill Swengros once again will bless the children’s pets at St. Stephen Catholic School. And it’s extremely important to my 11-year-old son, Ian, that his Yorkie, Cookie, be sprinkled with holy water from the aspergillum (the holy water sprinkler thingamajiggy) and be duly blessed by Father Bill.
Personally, I don’t think dunking Cookie in an entire vat of holy water is going to improve her disposition. While she may appear deceptively cute, she has a propensity to unexpectedly transform into a snarling 3.4-pound monster with razor-sharp teeth. No wonder her former owners were so anxious to give her away. What she really needs is an exorcism, but I’d have to get permission from an archbishop or cardinal or other person in the higher echelons of the Catholic Church for that ritual.
So, instead, I conceded to my son’s wishes last year to have the Cookie monster blessed. If only I hadn’t picked up the phone …
I had my purse on my shoulder and was just about to walk out of my office when the phone rang. “Let the answering machine pick it up,” I thought briefly. But, no, I just had to answer it. And it was one of those people who won’t let you get a word in edgewise to explain that you’ll have to call them back later because you’ve got to be somewhere.
Eventually, I finagled out of the conversation, hurried home, grabbed the squirming little Yorkie, jumped into my car and proceeded to back out of the garage. Unfortunately, the automatic garage door hadn’t opened completely. I could tell instantly by the loud crashing sound as the upper portion of my SUV crashed into the bottom portion of my garage door. The garage door bulged out and wouldn’t open the rest of the way, trapping my SUV inside. I wasn’t all that concerned about the fact that my SUV or garage door were dented or that the luggage rack on top had come off. I was just anxious to get out of the garage so I could get the hairy little darling sprinkled with holy water and avoid disappointing my son.
Fortunately, my lawn guy showed up in the nick of time and graciously hammered the bulge out of the garage door so it would open fully and I could free my SUV.
Heart pounding, I drove as quickly as the law allowed (OK, maybe a little over the speed limit) to the school where I encountered all the parents heading in the other direction with their dogs and cats blissfully blessed, Father Bill divested of all holy vestments and my sobbing son being led back to his classroom.
I wanted to throw up, and was about to do just that, when another car pulled up. Fellow mom and habitually late friend, Tamie Biggins, exited with an equally frantic look on her face. With her was a menagerie that included her son’s hamster and their ancient dog who would receive his final blessing.
Father Bill obviously had his fill of flying fur and dog drool for the day. Nevertheless, I managed to cajole him into suiting back up in his alb, chasuble and Noah’s Ark print stole because it just isn’t official if he isn’t wearing the priestly garments. Even Cookie seemed to realize the good father was doing us a big favor. She never once growled or snapped at him. Her head didn’t spin around and she didn’t puke anything green.
So, this afternoon, I’m not taking any phone calls. And I’m keeping my garage door open. Come 2:30 p.m., Cookie will be first in line for the pet blessing.
A child’s tears are all the therapy I need.


Addendum: I was, indeed, the first parent at the pet blessing. Guess who was second? Right, Tamie Biggins with her menagerie minus one aged dog who had died shortly after last year’s blessing. 

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