224 The Explosive ChildMitchell chuckled. “He still thinks we’re going to
accomplish something by coming here,” he said into
the air.
“I should add that sarcasm isn’t the only bad habit,”
the therapist continued. “The one-upmanship in this
family is intense.”
“Birds of a feather,” the mother chirped.
“What does that mean?” Mitchell demanded.
“It means that the apple didn’t fall far from the
tree,” said the mother.
“Be careful about whose tree you’re talking about,”
said the father. “I don’t want any credit for this.”
“Oh, I’m afraid you’re right in the thick of things,”
the therapist reassured the father. “I wonder if we
could establish a few rules of communicating. I must
warn you, I’m not sure you’ll have much to say to one
another once I tell you these rules.”
“Bravo,” said Mitchell. “That’s music to my ears.”
“What kind of rules?” asked the mother.
“Well, it would be a lot more productive if we got
rid of a lot of the sarcasm,” the therapist said. “It really
muddies up the communication waters. And the one-
upmanship has got to go.”
The ensuing silence was broken by the father. “I
don’t think he can do it,” he said, looking at Mitchell.
Before Mitchell could erupt, the therapist inter-
jected, “That’s one-upmanship.”