Therapy

We'd heard rumors that Dr. Phil was staying in this very hotel over the weekend, but we were still shocked to walk into the lobby and find him seated there.

He was sitting on a jewel-toned brocade couch, smack-dab in the middle, with fans/patients/admirers flanking him on either side. The other chairs in the arrangement were also occupied with women--all women--hanging on his every word.

Dr. Phil was being more effervescent than I'd ever seen him on TV--he was clearly enjoying the attention.

I couldn't help but notice that his diminutive wife, Robin, was not in the crowd.

"There he is!" I said to Doug. Even my husband--no great believer in the benefits of psychological therapy--was impressed.

And then it happened. Dr. Phil saw me standing there, left the crowd, and walked my way.

"I recognize you from my studio audience," he said. "You looked like such a fascinating woman--a woman with a story. I really wanted to get a chance to talk to you...alone."

Doug nodded his assent, and Dr. Phil led me to a quiet corner of the expansive lobby, where it was easier to hear the background music.

"Shall we dance?" he asked.

We danced a Texas slow dance and spoke like old, well-acquainted friends. We talked about our children, our work, my iffy self-esteem--but not of his wife or of my husband. Doug watched from a distance until he couldn't bear it anymore.

I jumped when he placed his hand firmly on my shoulder, snapping back to reality so quickly that I felt guilty before even being accused.

"I'm sorry," I said, "that I was dancing with Dr. Phil. But it wasn't like when I had dinner a couple weeks ago with Simon Cowell--this time, you said it was OK..."

As betrayed as he must have felt, Doug still managed to deliver the classic Dr. Phil comeback.

"So," he said, sounding a little bit jealous, "how's that working for him?"

And then we kissed, rolled over, and laughed ourselves back to sleep.

Posted by Katy on 05/31/03 at 11:05 AM

Fallible Comments...

Too funny! (I'd pick Dr. Phil over Simon any day!)
-----
Posted by Bridget on 05/31/03 at 02:28 PM
I wish I could have better control over these dream happenings--sigh. If I could, I'd only dream about Doug...
Posted by katy on 06/06/03 at 03:19 PM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	Therapy We'd heard rumors that Dr. Phil was staying in this very hotel over the weekend, but we were still shocked to walk into the lobby and find him seated there. He was sitting on a jewel-toned brocade couch, smack-dab in the middle, with fans/patients/admirers flanking him on either side. The other chairs in the arrangement were also occupied with women--all women--hanging on his every word. Dr. Phil was being more effervescent than I'd ever seen him on TV--he was clearly enjoying the attention. I couldn't help but notice that his diminutive wife, Robin, was not in the crowd. "There he is!" I said to Doug. Even my husband--no great believer in the benefits of psychological therapy--was impressed. And then it happened. Dr. Phil saw me standing there, left the crowd, and walked my way. "I recognize you from my studio audience," he said. "You looked like such a fascinating woman--a woman with a story. I really wanted to get a chance to talk to you...alone." Doug nodded his assent, and Dr. Phil led me to a quiet corner of the expansive lobby, where it was easier to hear the background music. "Shall we dance?" he asked. We danced a Texas slow dance and spoke like old, well-acquainted friends. We talked about our children, our work, my iffy self-esteem--but not of his wife or of my husband. Doug watched from a distance until he couldn't bear it anymore. I jumped when he placed his hand firmly on my shoulder, snapping back to reality so quickly that I felt guilty before even being accused. "I'm sorry," I said, "that I was dancing with Dr. Phil. But it wasn't like when I had dinner a couple weeks ago with Simon Cowell--this time, you said it was OK..." As betrayed as he must have felt, Doug still managed to deliver the classic Dr. Phil comeback. "So," he said, sounding a little bit jealous, "how's that working for him?" And then we kissed, rolled over, and laughed ourselves back to sleep. Posted by Katy on 05/31/03 at 11:05 AM Fallible Comments... Too funny! (I'd pick Dr. Phil over Simon any day!) ----- Posted by Bridget on 05/31/03 at 02:28 PM I wish I could have better control over these dream happenings--sigh. If I could, I'd only dream about Doug... Posted by katy on 06/06/03 at 03:19 PM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: Swingers Previous entry: Losing It << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri