Troubles and Treats (Chocolate Lovers #3)(27)

Would now be a bad time to point out that all three women were dressed as slutty burglars?

I shrug even though she can’t see me. “What can I say, he really gets into his work. And he said to tell you he was sorry.”

She doesn’t say a word. She just keeps her head on the back of the couch and the towel over her eyes. I feel like I'm in the principal’s office, standing in front of her desk waiting for my punishment like that one time in high school when I put a little black skirt over the figure on the boy’s bathroom door in an attempt to get some hot chicks to walk in on guys pissing. Instead, the principal had walked in on a Freshman whacking off during fourth period. The principal had ignored me for an hour before she finally gave me my punishment. I don’t want to stand here for an hour. The kids are asleep and Tosh.0 is coming on soon.

“Um, are we done here?” I ask.

“Did you seriously just say that to me?!” Jenny screeches.

How is it possible for women to hit decibels with their voices that even dogs can’t hear?

“Yes, we’re done here. You can explain your stupidity to Doctor Madison tomorrow when we go for marriage counseling.”

I’m sorry, what?

~

“So, Drew, tell me why you think you’re here?”

I stare at the woman sitting across from us wearing a long flowing skirt, Birkenstocks, and yellow tinted glasses. The smell of incense is so strong in here I think I’m going to be sick, and the soft sounds of Simon and Garfunkel coming from her radio in the corner makes me want to take a nap.

“I have no idea what the hell I’m doing here aside from having a bad '60s flashback,” I mutter.

Jenny smacks my arm and I let out a big sigh.

“Oh it’s okay, Jenny. This is a room of honesty. Your husband is free to express whatever is in his heart and mind when he’s in this room without fear of judgment. I’ll make this a little easier on you since it’s your first time here. Jenny has explained to me over the phone that the two of you are having some communication issues. Is that correct?” she asks.

“Um, sure. I guess,” I say with a shrug.

I don’t know this woman, and I’m sure as hell not going to tell her the only communication problem my wife and I have right now is that her vagina doesn’t want to speak to my dick. Hippy chick here will look right at my penis and wonder what’s wrong with me. This stranger is going to think I have a third ball or my penis is shaped like a horseshoe.

“My penis is fine!” I shout.

Might as well put that out there before she gets any funny ideas. She doesn’t even bat an eye at my outburst, just folds her hand in her lap and smiles at me.

“You have a real connection with your penis, is that correct?”

Is this really happening right now?

“Um, well, it IS connected to my body, so yes. I’m sort of connected to it.”

She just smiles at me again and then points to my shirt. “I was referring to your shirt.”

I glance down and realize I’m wearing one that says: I puffy heart my penis. Let me show you why.

“I think I can sense what the root of the problem is here. You two just had a baby not that long ago. Sometimes it’s difficult for couples to connect again after something this life altering happens. What we need to do is get you two to connect.”

Okay, I take it back. This woman might be a genius. If she can get my wife to connect with me at the pelvis, I will buy myself a pair of Birkenstocks and sit under a black light with her, smoking pot.

“Jenny, I’d like you to do something for me. Turn your body on the couch so that you are facing your husband.”

Jenny does as she’s told, pulling her legs up onto the couch and sitting Indian style.

“Okay, now, Jenny, I want you to look down at your husband’s penis and tell it you love it.”

Jenny hesitates and looks at Dr. Madison questioningly.

Do not question the good doctor! Do as she says!

“It’s alright, Jenny. This will be good for both of you. Talk to the penis.”

Jenny slowly turns back to me and stares right down at my lap.

“Um, I love you.”

“Very good, Jenny! Now, I want you to apologize to the penis for taking it for granted,” Dr. Madison explains kindly.

I wonder if she’ll tell Jenny to suck the penis next. And if so, should I ask the good doctor to leave or stay?

“Uh, I’m sorry for taking you for granted,” Jenny says while still staring at my lap.

“Excellent! Okay, Drew, now it’s your turn,” Dr. Madison states.

I don’t even hesitate. “I love you penis! You are the best guy ever! No, seriously. You never let me down, you’re always up when I need you to be, and I apologize for some of those issues we had back in college that required antibiotics,” I say to my penis.

I look up at Dr. Madison, quite proud of myself for being such a team player with this whole therapy nonsense.

“That was very nice, Drew. But what I really wanted you to do was talk to Jenny’s vagina,” she explains.

Well alrighty then.

Figuring I might as well be comfortable for this, I curl up on the couch and rest my head on Jenny’s thigh. “I love you too, vagina. I miss you like a hooker misses her virginity. True story. Why have you done me wrong, Boo? Why is there such a distance between us? Remember when we used to hang out every day? Now I barely see you once a month. You’ve changed, vagina. I hate to say this, but you have. You’re a different person now, and it’s like I don’t even know you. I thought maybe you were hanging around with a different crowd of people and they influenced you against me. Maybe we’re just growing apart. I don’t want to lose you, vagina! I need you like I need air to breathe and football on Sundays. I just can’t quit you, vagina!”