Prodigal Therapy

This didn’t make it
into the Bible, but
the Prodigal Son
became a Family
Therapist.

Remember him?
The delinquent
who demanded his
inheritance and
used it
to finance the
careers of a
motley crew of
hookers and drug dealers?

Then he crawled home
and begged Daddy
to let him sleep
in a corner of
the servants’ quarters,
probably on a pile
of his filthy work clothes,
from his last job
shoveling pig shit.

But Daddy said
NO!

And made him
take a bath
so he could wear
a brand new
party robe,
then put a ring
on his finger
and wrote him
a big check,
restoring his
squandered inheritance.

Then the kid was
the Guest of Honor
at a party to
show off his
new robe and
practice being
happy again.

Okay,
I’m not sure
the boy hung out
a shingle to practice
Family Therapy,

but I like to
imagine his
first session
with a despairing
father,
wondering what
consequences
should be paid
by his rebellious,
but equally despairing
son.

(Photo by Nik Shuliahin; UnSplash)