“This is what you call a 16th century thinking cap.”
“A what?”
“Put it on and reflect.”
“I will do no such.”
“You will because I’m your father and I say so.”
“I don’t know whose head this thing has been on.”
“You go out every Friday night and do God knows what with your friends, now you’re worried about who has worn this piece of metal armor I want you to try so, you can free yourself – mentally. I’ve heard stories and watched you stumble through the door in the wee hours of the morning, upsetting your mother. Tell me, please, how this could hurt you!”
“Let me count the ways; lice, spiders, germs – that we can’t even see. You’re a fool, old man.” The teenage boy chuckled as he turned his back to his father in an attempt to walk away.
A loud ding echoed from the helmet; the child tumbled to the ground.
The elder male looked down upon his son. “Are you seeing birds, Cinderella?” He gazed seriously at him.
The boy sat up from the dirt and rubbed his head as he mindlessly stared back at his father.
“Let’s get one thing straight. While your mother thinks we should spend outrageous amounts of money on therapists trying to figure out why you do the things you do, I have taken it upon myself to purchase this little beauty, here.” He held the head gear in the air, smiled and gave it a kiss, adding sound effects. “Mwah!”
“Next time you and those little hooligans you run around with decide to upset your mother, you’re going to experience this thinking cap again. If it makes you feel better and more prominent, we can just call it SHOCK TREATMENT!”
“Yes sir.” A faint whisper exited the boy’s mouth.
Leesa Writes 
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