Welcome to my therapy session

Let me introduce my therapist: Her name is Feisty, although sometimes she too has to give her feist a kick in the patootie.

Rose recommended her. You remember Rose –

Rose is out scuba diving with her bestie, so she’s not available this week.

Anyway, Feisty says I don’t need a couch or a box of kleenex for our sessions; she is recommending drinks and foldover sandwiches, with 35 calorie per slice bread and a thin layer of PB from the largest jar I have seen. Feisty says we’re probably going to use it all before she deems me ready for function, maybe even need another jar.

Maybe I should contact one of those telephone shrinks who advertise on TV?