The title conjures up all sorts of thoughts about the kind of position Scott might have held where the temptation to throw a pair of actual underwear on the table seemed like, in Scott's words "A good idea at the time." For several years, Scott worked as a family therapist, serving as a live-in counselor for a residential group home for juvenile delinquents. These were not Sunday School kids being sent to a weekend camp with days full of singing and evenings spent around the campfire eating s'mores. These children were wards of the state, and they were placed in Scott's custody because each had suffered some profound abuse and/or neglect. In one corner stood Scott, a "mature," college-educated, adult at the ripe age of twenty-two. In the other corner stood six children, many carrying long, distinguished juvenile criminal records by the time they were placed in his care. Who would win? Before he could find success in connecting with the hearts and minds of the children in his care, Scott had his own fears and insecurities to confront and overcome. He soon understood that to reach his kids, he had to close the textbook. And open his own heart. While Scott endeavored to bring security, structure and stability into the lives of the troubled children he served, he believes that they taught him how to listen to his heart.