Errant Counseling

Pete breathed deeply, and said to himself, "It can't be that bad." He followed a social worker into a room labeled Remedial Parenting. The social worker had him sit next to a woman with long fingernails and a man with a big grin.

"Hey," the woman said.

"Hello," Pete said, "I'm single now, you know, so if you wanted to..."

"No one cares," the woman answered.

"Hey, smiley, what are you so happy about?" Pete asked.

"I'm going to learn to be the bestest father I can possibly be!" he said, "It's going to be great since my wife and I are thinking about trying to get pregnant starting tonight."

"Parenting is so easy. Don't over-prepare for it," Pete said, shrugging.

"If it's so easy, why are you here?" the woman asked.

"Why are you here?" Pete asked.

"Kid screwed me…" the woman replied, looking at her nails. "Said I 'wasn't attentive enough' or some shit like that."

"Yeah, kids do that. It's like they expect so much from you, like meeting their needs for them and giving them free will and acting like you're happy about it and if you don't do even one of those things they're all ready to call the sociable services on you for quote-unquote 'abusing' them," Pete responded.

A woman with glasses and a brown bun walked into the room. "Hello, class. My name is Mrs. Welfire. You are here because you want to improve your parenting skills, or because we want you to, Tonya."

"What?" Tonya asked.

"And… oh dear god. You appealed an instant pull, Pete?" Mrs. Welfire said.

"Yes I did. Your baby snatchers have no right to take my kid and put him in prison," Pete said.

"We wouldn't take your son to prison, Pete," Mrs. Welfire sighed. "In my experience, instant pulls that weren't complete misunderstandings were warranted. But whatever, I'm up for a challenge… and you must be Brian… voluntary. You're free to go."

"But I need to learn how to be the bestest father I can possibly be!" Brian protested.

"You're already at least five grade levels above these guys for taking action at all. This class isn't challenging enough for you," Mrs. Welfire said.

"I just want to make sure I don't end up abusing my kid," Brian said.

"You won't, trust me, buh-bye," she said, pushing him out the door. "Panicky expectant fathers… seriously, do they not understand what the word 'remedial' means?"

"I'm glad he's gone, he would've been a teacher's pet anyway," Pete grumbled.

"Maybe a teacher who wants a student who knows all the answers in advance, but what use is knowledge that's been around before you met them? My favorite student will be the one who improves. And you, sir, have plenty of room for improvement," she said. "Maybe I can be the first in my ward to convincingly counsel an instant pull."

"He's hopeless, forget him," Tonya said.

"Tonya, if you want a shot at being my favorite, you're going to have to try."

"But trying's for losers," Tonya said.

"No kidding," Pete said. "But…" He hung his head down. "If I don't, they'll never let me see my son again."

"We'll start with some scenarios," said Mrs. Welfire. "Your child comes home in tears because a school bully made fun of their weight. What do you do… Pete?"

"I yell at my son for crying, call him a pussy, and then go beat the tar out of the bully for insulting my son," Pete said.

"But in your answer… you insult your son," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm his father. It's my job to insult him," Pete defended, crossing his arms.

"That is the exact opposite of the truth," his teacher said in deadpan. Tonya laughed from behind her hand.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I'd do nothing," Tonya said.

"That answer isn't any better. Hoo-boy. Great start, guys."

"I believe you were hired to teach us, not to insult us and make us feel shitty," Pete said.

"I was," she responded. "Very good, Pete. You have potential to improve yet."

Tonya glared at him.

Pete and Tonya were handed a set of cards that had a behavior on them.

"You are supposed to sort these into the blue bin, the green bin, the yellow bin, and the red bin. If they go in the blue bin, you are encouraged to do it often, in the green bin, it's optional, in the yellow bin, you should do it only sparingly such as a punishment, and in the red bin, something you should never do. Come get me when you're done." Mrs. Welfire left the room and sat in a chair just outside.

"I can't believe this Mrs. Welfire is treating us like such… children," Pete said. "Sort the cards into bins. No big deal." Pete was tossing things every which way into the green, bin, the blue bin, and the yellow bin. He saw a card that said, "beat a child into submission" and was about to put it in the red bin, when Tonya stopped him.

"No, Pete!" Tonya said, "That's..."

"A yellow? Okay, I wasn't quite sure about it…" Pete said and diligently put it in the yellow bin. "Though my red bin's kind of empty."

"You know, I know exactly what the reds are supposed to be… if you like I can help you sort your bins," Tonya responded.

"But you're not done with yours!" Pete said.

Tonya haphazardly threw every remaining card into her green bin, and then re-sorted Pete's bin.

"All done," she said.

"Wow," Pete said, "I guess I did a pretty terrible job. It seemed like you moved almost every card."

"We're done," Tonya said out into the hallway.

"Okay, let's see how you guys did," Mrs. Welfire said. "We'll start with Tonya." She glanced at her box that had almost everything in the green bin. "You guys were working for a long time. How did you not put more effort into it than this?"

"Everything is optional!" Tonya said.

"If that were true, you guys would both be with your children right now," Mrs. Welfire responded. "Okay, Pete, let's see yours. It can't be worse than Tonya's. Let's take a look at your blues." She pulled three cards out at random. "Are you… you put "take away a child's freedom", "beat a child into submission", and "use a child as a prop" in the blue section?"

"That's not true!" Pete said, "I put the first and the third in green and I almost put the second in red until Tonya convinced me to put it in yellow. She sabotaged me!"

Tonya giggled.

"Quiet, both of you," Mrs. Welfire said. "Tonya, if you would put as much effort into being a parent as you would into sabotaging your classmate, you wouldn't be here at all. And as for you, Pete… for the love of god, if you have to cheat to prove you're a remotely decent parent, your son should have been taken away. By the way, whether she sabotaged you or not, you were still wrong about all of those things. The first should have been yellow at best, and the other two were supposed to be red, period."

"See you tomorrow?" Pete asked.

"No," Mrs. Welfire said. "I like a challenge, but I don't like a lost cause, and you, Pete, are just like all the others."

"No, I'm different, I can change, I promise!" Pete said. He fell down on his knees and groveled. "I promise I can change! Please give me another chance."

"No," Mrs. Welfire repeated, and then left the students alone. She called the main office and said, "This is Doris Welfire from the remedial parenting class. I'm calling regarding Pete. It is my educated opinion that he shall not regain custody of his son."

"You're fucked," Tonya said.

"Fuck you, you goddamn slut!" Pete said, and then punched Tonya across the room into a locker. "I can't believe I'm losing my chance to get my son back because of you! Go to hell, you bitch!"

Mrs. Welfire said, "Excuse me, I'm going to have to call you back" and started calling the police instead.

The police arrived and arrested Pete for assault and battery. Pete claimed it was in self-defense, but no one believed him. He sat in prison alone for days when an unlikely visitor showed up.

"Hey, dad," a voice said.

"PJ?" Pete asked.

"I heard you punched out a social worker," PJ said.

"You heard wrong. I punched out a negligent so-called mother who sabotaged my chances of getting you back," Pete said.

"Oh," PJ said. "Well that's a little less horrible. Technically, I'm not supposed to be here right now. They've given you a hefty restraining order regarding me."

Pete cursed loudly.

"Dad, you don't need to swear about it. It'll be okay, I promise," PJ said.

Pete grabbed his collar and said, "Tell them I'm the best dad in the world."

"Dad, guard," PJ said, pointing.

The guard was not amused that Pete was holding by the scruff of his neck the child he had lost custody of for abusing before being arrested for assault and battery. He knocked him out with a club and checked for PJ's safety, lecturing him for going near his dangerous birth father.

"It's alright, sir, he wasn't attacking me," PJ said.

The guard looked piteously at PJ, sighed, and shook his head.

"No, I mean it. Look, my dad is… well, let's be honest, he's kind of an enormous jerk. But there are many redeeming qualities to him."

"Name one," the guard challenged.

"Well he… doesn't always…" PJ began.

"Name one that's consistent," the guard clarified.

PJ remained silent for a few seconds. He then uttered the syllable, "Umm…"

"See?" the guard asked. "You can't think of even one."

"Wait, no, I have one!" PJ said. "He doesn't ever…"

"No negatives. I want you to tell me something good about him. You obviously wouldn't be talking to me if he killed you even once, but that doesn't mean he won't in the future," the guard responded.

"My dad lost custody of me for being greedy, lazy, and rude, not for committing violent crimes. Look, I know it seems bad he was arrested for assault and battery, but let me tell you this temper is nothing new. He's had this temper my entire life and even at his angriest he never comes close to killing me!"

The guard sighed. "Do you love him?" he asked pointedly.

"A son is supposed to..." PJ began.

"Do. You. Love. Him?" the guard repeated.

PJ sighed sullenly, looked down at his shoes and shook his head.

"I understand you have some sympathy for the guy, really, I do. But all these regulations are in place, first and foremost, to protect the innocent. In other words, you," the guard said. "If he has to be out of the picture to keep you happy, healthy, and safe, so be it."

PJ left the jail. When Pete finally came to, he was more determined than ever to prove that he was a good father. Content that he had learned his lesson, the police released him the next morning. Pete ran out to where the remedial parenting counseling was taking place. He looked into the window and saw that Mrs. Welfire working with some other parents before throwing out two, one of whom was Brian.

"Dang it, Joe," Brian said, "I thought that would work."

"I keep telling you, Brian," Joe responded, "These places are only for total psychos. But it's not like they help anyone. Once a psycho, always a psycho. Anyone who thinks their abysmal parenting can be improved is kidding himself."

Pete refused to believe it. He caught Mrs. Welfire as she walked out the door.

"Pete?" she asked, "What are you doing here? I told you that I can't help you. Go home."

"Not childless, I won't. My son needs a father," Pete said.

"Well, I think letting you raise him is marginally better than slathering him in gazelle blood and dropping him in the middle of a pride land," Mrs. Welfire said. "You are divorced, correct? How the hell did you get custody of him in the first place?"

"I'd rather not tell you," Pete said.

"And why not?" she asked.

"Because it'll just make you hate me even more," Pete said as he started to cry. "Oh, shit. I'm not crying!"

"Pete, Pete, Pete," she said.

"I know! I know I'm a huge asshole! And I know people think I'm the worst father in town! It's true! I suck. I'm the worst father in the entire universe," Pete said.

"Well, I wouldn't go quite that far," she said.

"So… you think there are worse fathers than me in the world?" Pete said.

"Yes, but most of them would have been in prison for more than a few days," she said. "And I already said no."

"Okay, Mrs. Welfire, I'll tell you what really happened. I… felt threatened by Tonya. And I think she felt threatened by me. I guess it's hard to focus on improving ourselves when we're too focused on keeping up with the other. But I promise if you and I have a private session," Pete began. When he realized that she was giving him a horrified look, he clarified, "A private tutoring session—believe me, I know I've already more than used up my quota of tens for life." She smiled at that comment. "I promise that I can improve."

"Well, Pete," Mrs. Welfire said, "You know what I say. I don't like a lost cause… but… you seem determined. And without any other students around, I don't see how you can cheat. Okay, we'll give it a go."

"Oh thank you!" Pete said, picking her up and kissing her.

"Please never do that again," she said, glaring at him.

"Sorry, caught up in the heat of the moment," Pete said.

The next day, Pete began his tutoring sessions. He passed every offered test with flying colors up until the very last one.

"Pete, I'd like you to say hello to your special guest," Mrs. Welfire said. "Come on in, sweetheart," she said.

PJ walked into the room.

"PJ!" Pete said.

"Hey, dad," PJ said.

"You know all the answers," Mrs. Welfire said. "Let's see you get behind the wheel."

"Umm… behind the wheel?" Pete said.

"Dad," PJ began. "I wanted to talk to you about my essay."

"The one you cheated on?" Pete asked.

"I didn't cheat!" PJ said.

"You expect me to believe that!?" Pete asked, looking like a fierce bull about to charge. Then he noticed that PJ ran to hide behind the door and that Mrs. Welfire was tightly gripping his wrist. "I umm…" he said, "Sorry, PJ. I didn't mean to lose my temper." PJ stared agape for a second or two and then fainted.

"Oh, shit! I killed him with telephonesis!" Pete said. "I didn't even know I had that."

Mrs. Welfire checked PJ's pulse and found it was normal. "He's fine, Pete, just a little shocked is all," she said. "He'll come to in a minute."

When PJ woke, he asked, "Was I dreaming or did Dad apologize for something he just did without me having to pretend to almost die?"

"PJ, I know I'm the worst dad in the universe," Pete said.

"No, you're not," PJ said.

"Yes, I am," Pete responded. "I have no right to treat you the way I do… and you have every right to hate me for it. PJ, if you say that you didn't cheat… I… I believe you. I know you make an excellent dupe from time to time, but apparently 'manipulating a child for my own gains' is in the red bin…"

"The what?" PJ asked.

"Never mind, it's not important," Pete said. "What is important is that I know you might not be the best-looking kid or the brightest or the strongest or the bravest or the toughest or the most interesting…."

"It's your job not to insult your son, Pete," Mrs. Welfire warned.

"Dammit! My point is, if I have to give you credit for something, it's that you're a straight shooter. If you say you didn't cheat, you didn't cheat. And you deserve better than me. Anyway, I obviously suck 'behind the wheel' so I hope whoever ends up taking care of you treats you better than I have for the last decade and a half," Pete said.

"He will," PJ said. He kissed Pete on the cheek.

"Why the fuck did you kiss me?" Pete asked.

"Sorry, sir," PJ said. "Maybe I'm wrong…"

"Wrong about what?" Pete asked.

"Maybe you're just as insincere as ever. Maybe you still hate me…"

"I don't hate you, PJ!" Pete said. "What can I do to convince you that I love you?"

"Actually reciprocating any affection I give you," PJ said. "When you were in jail, the prison guard asked me if I loved you. I couldn't look him in the eyes and say 'yes.' But Dad, believe me when I say it's not because I don't want to love you. It's just that no matter how hard I try it always ends up a bitter disappointment and… after you associate something strongly enough with pain and suffering, you start wanting to avoid it."

"I never mean to hurt you, PJ," Pete said. "I know I do anyway because all I think about is myself. 'What can I get done?' 'Is this in my best interests?' 'Do I find this amusing?' Never, 'Will this upset PJ?' And PJ, the reason I yelled at you for kissing me is the same reason you get mad at me."

"How exactly is it 'mistreating' you to show you affection?" PJ asked.

"Because you're just taunting me!" Pete said.

"Taunting you?" PJ asked. "I don't taunt people."

"Liar. You kissed me after saying your new replacement daddy was going to do better than I did."

"Dad… for goodness' sake, I meant you would treat me better," PJ said. "Unbelievable. Every time I try to set up a heartwarming moment you don't bite and every time you try I don't bite…"

"You meant… I would treat you better?" Pete asked.

"I just said that," PJ responded, getting slightly impatient. Then he chuckled and said softly, "At least you were listening to me."

"But I don't understand. I lost my temper and I insulted you and now I got mad at you for kissing me…"

"Dad," PJ said. "No one is expecting you to be a saint. You're not Max's dad, as you proudly proclaim repeatedly. You're trying. You're doing your best. You apologized for something you'd usually do as casually as taking a sip of coffee. You stopped yourself in your tracks because someone asked you to. And the moment you upset me, you responded with concern. Anyway, even good parents have bad days, and what with the essay debacle and you fighting so hard to get me back... I can understand why you might be a little on-edge right now."

"PJ, you don't deserve a dad like me…" Pete said, sighing. "Stop polishing a turd."

"Why don't you let me decide whether you're a good father or not, Dad?" PJ asked. "I promise my eyes will tell you the truth." Pete looked at PJ's eyes and where before he saw despondency he began to see warmth. Pete began to smile. PJ softly whispered into Pete's ear, "I love you, Dad."

"Am I better dad than Goofy yet?" Pete asked excitedly.

"Eh, he got an A+ on the standard track, but a B- on the advanced track isn't bad either," PJ said.

"I'll take it!" Pete said.

"Okay," Mrs. Welfire said, filling out paperwork. "Pete, you have probationary custody of PJ for a few months."

"What does promotionary mean?" Pete asked.

"It means as an experiment," PJ answered.

"Oh, thanks, PJ," Pete said. PJ was floored again. "But what does that mean for me?"

"It means we'll come by every once in a while to check up on you. If you revert to unacceptable behavior, you'll lose him again so be careful. But if you finish the probation period and we think it's acceptable, you're free to raise him on your own," Mrs. Welfire responded.

"That doesn't mean you have the right to start treating me like crap again the moment they stop watching, you know," PJ said warily.

"Don't worry," Pete said, "I won't. I promise."