Family Therapy with the Parkers
- Crystin Rice
- Dec 28, 2025
- 12 min read
It's December 28th - that unstructured void between Christmas and New Year's where for many families routines don't exist, no one knows what day it is, and every meal has been leftovers from Christmas dinner.
As I sit in that space myself, my mind wandered to another experience many of us share: watching A Christmas Story. It’s the movie where Ralphie Parker navigates the ordinary stresses of childhood while fixating on the coveted Red Ryder BB gun. For many, it’s a relatable portrait of American middle-class family life (though perhaps moreso for those of us who knew life before the internet, smartphones, and apps reshaped the world).
This year, though, my attention drifted away from Ralphie and landed on his father.
Gruff. Irritable. Not exactly someone you’d rush to spend time with.
And yet, the more I thought about him, the more curious I became about what life must have been like from his side of the story. I considered the pressures he carried, the era he lived in, and what his own childhood might have been like that shaped him into who we see in the movie. (I guess sometimes it's hard to turn off the therapist part of my brain.)
But it's December 28th, and my brain is still on vacation. So just for some fun, I decided to see what emerged when I asked AI to look at Mr. Parker and the whole Parker family through a psychological lens.
Here's a fictional therapy session with the Parkers written by Copilot:
Opening: Holiday Chaos in the Waiting Room
Therapist: Welcome, Parkers. I see you’ve brought… a leg lamp wrapped in a towel?
Mr. Parker: It’s fragile. And Italian. I’m not leaving it in the car.
Mrs. Parker: He insisted.
Therapist: Well, it’s festive. Let’s talk about how things went at home this week.
Mrs. Parker: We survived the Bumpus hounds, the furnace, and the turkey incident. So… pretty good.
Mr. Parker: I only yelled at the furnace twice.
Ralphie: That’s a record.
Therapist: Sounds like everyone’s working hard on holiday stress patterns.
Exploring the Leg Lamp Incident
Therapist: I’m curious about the leg lamp. It seems to have… emotional significance.
Mr. Parker: It’s a major award.
Mrs. Parker: It’s a fire hazard.
Therapist: What did it represent for each of you?
Mr. Parker: Victory. Recognition. A man’s triumph over the odds.
Mrs. Parker: A dust magnet shaped like a leg.
Therapist: So for you, Mr. Parker, it was about feeling seen and valued. And for you, Mrs. Parker, it was about keeping the home safe and sane.
Mrs. Parker: Exactly.
Ralphie’s Holiday Reflections
Therapist: Ralphie, how did the holidays feel for you?
Ralphie: Pretty good. I didn’t shoot my eye out.
Therapist: Always a win.
Ralphie: And Dad got me the BB gun. That was… really cool.
Therapist: It sounds like that gift was a moment of real connection between you two.
Mr. Parker: Well… the kid wanted it. And I knew he could handle it.
Ralphie: (smiling) Thanks, Dad.
Randy’s Turn
Therapist: Randy, how was your holiday?
Randy: I ate too much mashed potatoes.
Mrs. Parker: He refused to eat anything else.
Therapist: Comfort food can be a way of self-soothing during family chaos.
Randy: I like mashed potatoes.
Bringing the System Into View
Therapist: Here’s what I’m noticing:
Mr. Parker wants to feel appreciated and successful.
Mrs. Parker wants peace, safety, and fewer electrical hazards.
Ralphie wants connection and a little independence.
Randy wants mashed potatoes and quiet.
You’re all trying to make the holidays work in your own way.
A Moment of Holiday Connection
Therapist: Before we wrap up, let’s share one thing you appreciated about each other this holiday season.
Mrs. Parker: I appreciated that my husband only plugged in the lamp once.
Mr. Parker: I appreciated that my wife didn’t throw it out the window.
Ralphie: I appreciated that Dad trusted me with the BB gun.
Randy: I appreciated the mashed potatoes.
Therapist: Beautiful. This family has heart — and a sense of humor. A perfect combination for the holidays.
Therapy Session #2
Therapist: I’m glad you all made time to come in today. Families usually come because something in the home feels tense or disconnected. I’d love to hear what each of you hopes might feel different after spending the holidays together.
Mrs. Parker: Well… I suppose I’d like a little more calm. Things get loud. The boys get upset, the furnace acts up, and then my husband gets… expressive.
Mr. Parker: I’m not expressive. I’m just trying to keep the house from falling apart.
Therapist: It sounds like you carry a lot of responsibility for keeping things running. That can be heavy.
Mr. Parker: (sighs) You could say that.
Exploring Family Roles
Therapist: Mrs. Parker, I notice you often step in when things get tense. What’s that like for you?
Mrs. Parker: I just want everyone to be okay. If the boys are upset, I soothe them. If my husband is upset, I… redirect him. It’s just what mothers do.
Therapist: You carry a lot of emotional responsibility. That’s a big job.
Mrs. Parker: (smiles politely) I suppose it is.
Mr. Parker: She’s good at it. Best there is.
Therapist: I hear admiration in that. And maybe also a sense that emotions are her territory, not yours.
Mr. Parker: Well… she’s better at that stuff.
The Father’s Inner World
Therapist: Mr. Parker, what happens inside you when things feel chaotic at home?
Mr. Parker: I don’t like chaos. I like order. Predictability. A man should be able to come home and know what’s what.
Therapist: And when that doesn’t happen?
Mr. Parker: (grumbles) Then the dogs get in the yard, the furnace explodes, and everything goes sideways.
Therapist: That sounds overwhelming. And maybe hard to say directly.
Mr. Parker: (softens) Maybe.
Ralphie’s Perspective
Therapist: Ralphie, what’s it like for you when your dad gets frustrated?
Ralphie: I try to stay out of the way. I don’t want to make things worse. I just… keep quiet.
Therapist: You work hard not to be a burden.
Ralphie: (nods) Yeah.
Mr. Parker: He’s a good kid. Smart. Doesn’t cause trouble.
Therapist: I wonder if he’d like to feel seen even when he does have needs.
Mr. Parker: (looks at Ralphie) Well… I got him that BB gun, didn’t I?
Therapist: You did. That was a moment of real attunement. What was it like for you to give it?
Mr. Parker: (smiles) Felt good. Like I knew what he wanted. And I could give it to him.
Ralphie: It was the best moment ever.
Randy’s Voice
Therapist: Randy, how do you feel when things get loud at home?
Randy: I hide under the sink.
Mrs. Parker: He’s sensitive.
Therapist: It sounds like you get scared, and hiding helps you feel safe.
Randy: (nods)
Mr. Parker: I’m not scary. I’m just loud.
Therapist: Sometimes loud can feel scary to small bodies, even if it’s not meant to be.
Bringing the System Into View
Therapist: Here’s what I’m noticing:
Mrs. Parker works hard to keep everyone regulated.
Mr. Parker carries stress quietly until it bursts out sideways.
Ralphie tries to be self-sufficient so he doesn’t add to the load.
Randy seeks safety through closeness and hiding.
Each of you is doing your best with the tools you have. And each of you is longing for connection in your own way.
Closing Reflection
Therapist: Before we end, I’d love to hear one thing each of you appreciates about someone else in the family.
Mrs. Parker: I appreciate how hard my husband works for us.
Mr. Parker: I appreciate how my wife keeps this place running. And… the boys. They’re good boys.
Ralphie: I appreciate that Dad got me the BB gun.
Randy: I appreciate Mommy.
Therapist: There’s a lot of care in this family. With a little more room for feelings, I think you’ll find even more connection.
Family Therapy Session #3
Therapist: It’s good to see you all again. Last time, we talked about how each of you handles stress and emotion in the family. I’m curious what the week has been like since then.
Mrs. Parker: Well… I’ve been noticing how quickly I jump in to smooth things over. I didn’t realize how automatic it was.
Mr. Parker: And I’ve been noticing how loud I am. Apparently.
Ralphie: (smiles) You noticed.
Mr. Parker: Don’t get used to it.
Therapist: There’s some humor here, but also some real awareness. That’s a good sign.
Exploring Emotional Labor
Therapist: Mrs. Parker, you mentioned noticing how quickly you step in. What did you see?
Mrs. Parker: I realized I don’t even let the boys finish a sentence sometimes. I jump in to fix it or calm it down. I thought I was helping.
Therapist: You’ve been carrying a lot of emotional responsibility for a long time.
Mrs. Parker: (tears up slightly) I guess I have.
Mr. Parker: I didn’t know it felt like that for you.
Therapist: This is an important moment. You’re seeing her effort in a new way.
The Father’s Vulnerability Emerges
Therapist: Mr. Parker, last time you talked about wanting order and predictability. I’m wondering what happens inside you when things feel chaotic.
Mr. Parker: (pauses) I… don’t know. I just feel like I’m failing. Like I should be able to keep everything together.
Mrs. Parker: Oh, honey…
Therapist: That sounds like a heavy burden to carry alone.
Mr. Parker: I didn’t think anyone wanted to hear about it. I thought my job was to handle it.
Therapist: You learned somewhere that vulnerability wasn’t allowed.
Mr. Parker: Yeah. That sounds about right.
Ralphie Steps Forward
Therapist: Ralphie, what’s it like hearing your dad say that?
Ralphie: I didn’t know he felt that way. I thought he just got mad.
Therapist: It makes sense you’d see the anger but not the fear underneath.
Ralphie: I guess… I guess I thought if I messed up, it made things harder for him.
Mr. Parker: You don’t make things harder. You’re a good kid.
Therapist: That’s important for him to hear.
Ralphie: (smiles shyly) Thanks, Dad.
Randy’s Emotional World
Therapist: Randy, what’s it like for you when everyone gets loud or stressed?
Randy: I don’t like it. I feel like something bad is going to happen.
Therapist: That sounds scary.
Randy: I just want everyone to be happy.
Mrs. Parker: Oh sweetheart…
Therapist: It sounds like everyone in this family works hard to keep the peace in their own way.
Mapping the System Together
Therapist: Here’s what I’m seeing:
Mrs. Parker tries to keep everyone calm because she fears conflict.
Mr. Parker tries to keep everything controlled because he fears failure.
Ralphie tries to stay out of the way because he fears being a burden.
Randy tries to keep everyone happy because he fears something bad will happen.
Each of you is protecting the family in your own way.
Mr. Parker: I never thought of it like that.
Mrs. Parker: Me neither.
Therapist: You’re all working so hard. And none of you are alone in it.
A Moment of Connection
Therapist: Before we end today, I’d like each of you to share one thing you want the others to understand about you.
Mrs. Parker: I want you all to know I’m trying to step back a little. I trust you more than I show.
Mr. Parker: I want you to know I’m not angry at you. I’m just… scared sometimes. And I don’t know how to say it.
Ralphie: I want you to know I don’t need everything to be perfect. I just like when we’re together.
Randy: I want everyone to stop yelling.
Mr. Parker: (smiles gently) I can work on that, kiddo.
Therapist: This is a family that cares deeply. With a little more room for feelings, you’re already finding new ways to connect.
So there you have it - AI's take on what's happening in Mr. Parker's internal world.
In case you're wondering - no, I am definitely not worried about AI taking my job! 😂 The above session seems cut and dry - so easy and rather surface level. Mr. and Mrs. Parker are at a place where they are primed for introspection and a simple behavior change that we see play out but without really learning how to understand and manage their internal world. Real life and real therapy is much different.
One thing AI excels at, though, is keeping you engaged. Copilot has a feature where it offers additional rabbit trails for you to follow, and this one caught my eye:
Let’s go deeper into paternal stress and avoidant attachment, especially as it shows up in mid‑century families like the Parkers.
🧠 Paternal Stress and Avoidant Attachment
Why fathers like Mr. Parker look angry on the outside and overwhelmed on the inside
Avoidant attachment in fathers — especially mid‑century fathers — is almost always a defensive adaptation to chronic stress, emotional deprivation, and cultural expectations around masculinity. When you look at Mr. Parker through this lens, his irritability, emotional distance, and task‑focused behavior make perfect sense.
1. Where Avoidant Attachment in Fathers Comes From
Avoidant attachment often develops when a child learns early that:
Emotional needs are unwelcome
Vulnerability is unsafe
Caregivers respond to distress with withdrawal, irritation, or pressure to “toughen up”
So the child adapts by:
Minimizing needs
Over‑relying on self‑sufficiency
Turning to tasks instead of relationships
Using anger or humor to deflect closeness
By adulthood, this becomes a relational style, not a conscious choice.
This is the blueprint for avoidant attachment in fathers.
2. How Paternal Stress Activates Avoidant Defenses
Avoidantly attached fathers often look calm until stress hits. Then their system shifts into:
Hyper‑control
Irritability
Task fixation
Emotional shutdown
Why?
Because stress threatens the one thing avoidant systems rely on: the illusion of self‑sufficiency.
When the world feels unpredictable, avoidant fathers double down on:
Fixing
Providing
Containing
Controlling
This is why Mr. Parker’s battles with the furnace feel almost mythic — they’re symbolic fights for internal regulation.
This is the heart of paternal stress patterns.
3. Why Avoidant Fathers Often Look Angry Instead of Afraid
Avoidant attachment doesn’t eliminate fear — it hides it.
Underneath the bluster is usually:
Fear of failure
Fear of inadequacy
Fear of being exposed
Fear of disappointing the family
Fear of emotional intimacy
But because these emotions were never safe to express, they get converted into:
Irritation
Sarcasm
Competence
Stoicism
Over‑functioning
Anger is the only emotion that feels “allowed.”
This is a classic anger-as-protection pattern.
4. How This Impacts the Family System
Avoidant fathers unintentionally shape the emotional climate:
1. The mother overfunctions emotionally
She becomes the regulator, buffer, and interpreter.
2. The children adapt around the father’s stress
One child becomes self‑sufficient (Ralphie).
Another becomes dependent (Randy).
3. Emotional expression narrows
Only humor and irritation feel safe.
4. Love becomes action-based
Gifts, tasks, and provision replace emotional attunement.
This is the systemic ripple of avoidant paternal attachment.
5. The Hidden Vulnerability of Avoidant Fathers
Avoidant fathers often carry:
Unspoken shame
Chronic loneliness
A sense of being unappreciated
A longing for connection they don’t know how to access
They want closeness — they just don’t have the map.
This is why the BB gun moment in A Christmas Story is so powerful: It’s one of the few times Mr. Parker lets himself be emotionally present. This is a moment of covert paternal attunement.
6. How Therapy Helps These Fathers (If They Were Real Clients)
Therapeutic work often focuses on:
Expanding emotional vocabulary
Naming stress instead of converting it to anger
Reconnecting with vulnerability safely
Reducing the pressure to perform
Rebalancing emotional labor with the partner
Repairing ruptures with children through small, consistent attunement
Avoidant fathers don’t need to become expressive — they need to become reachable.
This is the core of healing avoidant attachment in fathers.
That's a lot of therapy lingo but a reasonable assessment. Those dynamics can certainly show up in families - even if it's the grown up Ralphie now coming in to understand why he is still looking for approval from others or the grown up Randy experiencing intense anxiety due to struggles with regulating his nervous system.
I think the work with Mr. Parker needs to go a few levels deeper than is listed here, though. Being able to name the patterns is nice for giving language to it. Naming the next level of emotions down is a good start. Understanding that there was a context those developed in is useful. But this is the view of therapy from an airplane window at 10,000 feet. To bring about any change, you're going to have to be at ground level where you can do the renovations. You can't build a house from the seat of an airplane.
Beyond that limitation, therapy is a relational process, not an informational one. Self-help books have been around for decades. Information is quite helpful and often interesting to learn, but it rarely brings about significant change. AI can offer tools, ideas, and psychoeducation, and that gives us a taste of an experience. but it's no match for the actual experience of therapy.
Therapy is being with a person who notices the subtle shift in your breath or posture and guides you deeper than you knew you needed to go.
It's taking a vulnerable risk with another human (because there's no risk with a technology that you can control) and experiencing a warm response from someone who invites the real and messy you.
It's experiencing shame in the presence of someone who will flip that around and bring appreciation and compassion.
Therapy is experiencing the ebbs and flows of relationship through micro ruptures and repairs, feeling what it's like to forgive and be forgiven, practicing accountability to another and holding another accountable. AI can simulate the language of repair, but not the experience of it and many of us never had that modeled for us.
It's experiencing the soothing presence of another, lending support and courage as you start to allow experiences that feel frightening or overwhelming.
I can appreciate AI, though, because of it's ability to assemble information. It's a great tool but misses the mark of the relational experience of being with another person.
It is kind of fun to play with, though, and it offers some tempting prompts:
If you want, I can also: Compare him to Bob Cratchit or Scrooge as father figures
I'll leave those for you to play with - unless you are spending the day at the optometrist after trying out your new Red Ryder BB gun.