Forty-five minutes pass. Vinnie’s dad is working on his LinkedIn profile. Vinnie’s mom is on her yoga mat watching a YouTube video titled, Yoga for Stressed-Out Moms on TV. Vinnie’s dad looks up from his laptop screen and stares at Vinnie’s mom, “Is that pose healthy for you?”
Vinnie’s mom is squatting with each leg resting on top of the back of her upper arms. She says, “Quiet, I want to hear the yoga master.”
“You look like a crow. I don’t think its healthy. You could hurt yourself.”
Vinnie’s mom tips over and sprawls on her yoga mat. She says, “You made me lose my concentration and now my stress is flooding back into me.”
“What did I do?” asks Vinnie Dad.
“You sound just like Vinnie,” says Vinnie’s mom rolling up her yoga mat. “Is it an hour yet? I’m beginning to get worried. Why don’t you walk down the street toward Joey’s house and check it out.”
“He’ll be home in one hour. Not a moment before. There’s nothing to worry about,” says Vinnie’s dad.
Vinnie’s mom’s phone ring. She picks it up off off the coffee table. She checks caller ID. She says to Vinnie’s dad, “It’s Sara’s mom. What could she want. I am not volunteering for the garage sale fund raiser. I did it last year and it was horrible.”
Vinnie’s dad doesn’t know what to say. When he doesn’t know what to say, he shrugs his shoulders and gives a smile.
Vinnie’s mom says, “You’re no help.” She answers her phone, “Hi, how are you Teresa?”
“Are you sure? …”
“Was anyone with Vinnie? . . .”
“Joey? . . .”
“Of course, I’ll speak to him. Do you want him to come over an apologize? . . .”
“Please, there’s no reason to get a restraining order. He’s only eight years old. . . .”
“I promise, it won’t happen again. . . .”
“Okay, I’ll join you on the garage sale fund raiser. We had such a wonderful time last year. Bye.”
“What was that about?” asks Vinnie’s dad.
“The only way I kept Vinnie out of trouble was to volunteer to help with garage sale. You know how I hated it last year. Now I have to do again. I don’t want to do it. I vowed never to do it again,” says Vinnie’s mom.
Vinnie’s dad closes his laptop. This is the programmed male response to show feigned interest. He decides to take it to the next level, which is challenging for most males, “Do you want to talk about it?” Vinnie’s dad hopes Vinnie’s mom says no.
“We’re going to talk counselor. First, go to Joey’s house and bring Vinnie home. Carry him over your shoulder if you have to.”
Vinnie’s dad understands relationship code words. When Vinnie’s mom calls him counselor, it means don’t you dare question me or argue with me. Just because you’re a lawyer, don’t think there is any appeal.
Vinnie’s dad says, “I’m on it like butter on toast.”
“Huh?” says Vinnie’s mom not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or settle into a nervous breakdown.
Vinnie’s dad sets his laptop on the coffee table, stands up and takes a step toward Vinnie’s mom.
“Don’t touch me. Go get Vinnie,” says Vinnie’s mom.
“My God, what did he do? Is it serious?” asks Vinnie’s dad.
Before Vinnie’s mom can answer, the front door opens. Vinnie walks into the living room. “Me and Joey are going to clean up crime on Mulberry Street. We already have a suspect for all the murders.”
“What murders?” asks Vinnie’s dad.
“Sara is the suspect?” says Vinnie’s mom.