Let's face it, I'm a worrier (thanks, Mom!). I really try to tamp it down with the kids because I figure two generations of worriers is enough, and I don't want them to carry the worry gene. I am very proud to say that I have never turned around and followed a fire engine going in the direction of our house (although I have paused long enough to think, "Huh. Did I turn off the stove?") but then again, so far I have never left either of the kids home alone, either, so really, if everything burned down we'd be psyched to rebuild with the insurance money (well, it would be a drag, but you get my drift).
I secretly perseverate, though, on the kids' health. Secretly, because Al is an anti-worrier and thinks I am ridiculous for worrying. And says things like, "Yes, he's going to die, do you feel better?" which doesn't really help me much. So, you know, their yearly checkups always stress me out and luckily Al usually takes them and I don't have to freak out our very level-headed pediatrician with my anxiety (like I did when I burst in to hysterical tears when she told me Maddox had Lyme Disease, which is sort of like saying, "you're kid has an ear infection," in retrospect).
But really, if this news was relayed to you, how would you feel?
Maddox has some odd little bumps on his neck that periodically grow in size and then break open and ooze... something. So I told Al to ask the doctor about them. They're small, and I wasn't really worried. The doctor couldn't even find them. But she told Al that it may be the remnants of primordial gills. So my kid is like..... fishman?
Also failed the hearing test in one ear. Now that, I can stress about.