On the couch ...

Psychiatrist: Do come in Mr Smythe. Nice to meet you. Please have a seat.

Smythe: May I use your toilet first please?

Psychiatrist: There is no need to. I have just used it a moment ago!

Smythe: No ... ehm ... I mean I need to use the toilet.

Psychiatrist: Oh yes of course ... it's down the corridor ... I'll wait here ... the clock is ticking though ...

*******

Psychiatrist: That was four minutes and thirty-nine seconds. Now lie on the couch and tell me what's the problem.

Smythe: Well it's about my mother ...

Psychiatrist: Yes, it always is. If it is not one thing it is the mother ... according to Freud. Or was it Jung? Or someone else I forgot his name ... anyway ... continue ...

Smythe: I live with my mother. Partly because I cannot afford a place of my own, and partly because she is old and I am concerned about leaving her alone for long.

Psychiatrist: I understand ... continue ...

Smythe: The problem is that she is so demanding. As soon as I get home from work ... I work about ten minutes away from home ... I am an accountant ...

Psychiatrist: How boring ... continue ...

Smythe: As soon as I get home she asks me for a cup of tea. Then I prepare her supper. Then she asks for a blanket to cover her because she is cold. Then she asks me to turn on the TV. Then ...

Psychiatrist: Is this leading anywhere? She is demanding ... I get it ... continue ...

Smythe: And she is always complaining ... the tea is too hot ... too cold ... the food is too salty ... the TV is not loud enough ... do we have to watch football? Downton Abbey is on the other channel ...

Psychiatrist: I must admit, Downton Abbey is better ... but I digress ... continue ...

Smythe: And she is so protective ... wear a pullover ...it's cold outside ... have you got a packed lunch for work ... take your umbrella with you ... don't be too late home ...

Psychiatrist: She obviously worries about you ... continue ...

Smythe: Yes ... but it is too obsessive ... she phones me at work every half-hour to check I am OK ... I told her I was OK half-an-hour ago ... she says she worries in case I get run over by a bus ... I told her we don't have buses running through the office ... she says I am impertinent ... 

Psychiatrist: I think it is sweet that she worries about you ... I suggest you phone her every half-hour or so to check she is OK ... make sure she did not slide off her armchair and is lying on the floor ... there's quite a draught comes in from under the doors you know ... make sure her hearing aid is working properly ... ask her if she needs anything ... you know ... just be a good son to her ... she loves you and you should love her back even more ... now continue ...

Smythe: Well ... that's it really ...

Psychiatrist: Good ... our time is up ... I'll send you the invoice in due course ... being an accountant I expect you to pay it promptly ... now be careful as you leave ... hold on to the banister as you get down the stairs in case you fall ... switch the stair lights on ... don't forget your umbrella in case it rains ... have you got any money for the bus? I'll loan you some ... no interest ... if you want ...

Smythe: No dad ... I have money ... thank you ... see you at home tonight ...

On the psychiatrist's couch

Patient: Please doctor, you've got to help me out.

Psychiatrist: Certainly. Which way did you come in?

Patient: Through the door just here.

Psychiatrist: Would you like to get out through the window instead?

Patient: No doctor ... I am having these recurring dreams.

Psychiatrist: Here ... lie on the couch. Take your shoes off first; I've just had the couch cleaned. My ... oh my ... your socks smell! Now then ... tell me, what seems to be troubling you.

Patient: I'd like to ask you first ... are you a Freudian psychiatrist or a Jung?

Psychiatrist: Neither ... I learnt psychiatry by watching Frazier Crane on TV.

Patient: Oh ... OK ... I keep having this same dream night after night.

Psychiatrist: Is it about your mother?

Patient: No.

Psychiatrist: Pity. I am good at dreams about one's mother. Oedipus and all that. Reminds me of my own Mom. She was so kind and sweet. I liked her you know. I wish I had met her before my Dad did ...

Patient: No doctor. The dreams are not about my mother.

Psychiatrist: Are they about my mother then? Do you know my mother?

Patient: No ... they are not about anyone's mother.

Psychiatrist: What are they about then? Because I am not very good at other dreams.

Patient: They are about this woman ...

Psychiatrist: Ah ... now we're getting somewhere. Tell me more. Whose mother is she? Have you got her phone number?

Patient: No ... no phone number. She is young, very beautiful, blonde hair, sexy voice ... and she keeps calling my name softly.

Psychiatrist: Is your name Softly?

Patient: No it isn't.

Psychiatrist: I see. Why does she call you Softly then? What does she say?

Patient: She keeps calling ... Felix ... Felix ... Felix ...

Psychiatrist: Felix? Is that your name?

Patient: No ... it's my cat's name.

Psychiatrist: Why did your mother name you after a cat?

Patient: She didn't name me after a cat. She named the cat after a cat.

Psychiatrist: What did your mother name you?

Patient: Whiskers!

Psychiatrist: What happened next? In your dream?

Patient: Then I am running down the street chased by ...

Psychiatrist: Your mother?

Patient: No ...

Psychiatrist: My mother?

Patient: No ... by ...

Psychiatrist: Felix's mother?

Patient: No doctor! Why has it always to be someone's mother?

Psychiatrist: Well, you know how it is? If it is not one thing it's the mother!

Patient: Well it isn't this time. In fact every time I am running down the street I am chased by a ... zebra!

Psychiatrist: A zebra? Are you sure?

Patient: Yes ... I got it in black and white ... etched on my mind. It's a zebra. It looks like a horse, but it is definitely a zebra.

Psychiatrist: You seem pretty sure.

Patient: So would you be if it chased you every night!

Psychiatrist: Why is this zebra chasing you every night?

Patient: I don't know. I thought you could help me interpret the dream.

Psychiatrist: I can't do that. I don't speak zebra. 

Patient: What does all this mean, doctor?

Psychiatrist: It means your time's up. See you next week. And bring your mother with you!