I once read that 99 percent of the things we worry about never come to fruition.
Most people would probably read that and think, “Ok, I shouldn’t worry so much.”
You know what I think? “Ok, so if I worry about everything, almost none of it will happen! Perfect!”
Yeah, I’m a real joy.
Lately, I have found myself in a constant state of where’s-that-other-shoe-and when’s-it-gonna-come-careening-out-of-the-sky-and-smack-me-in-the-head.
Can you blame me? It seems like every time I relax *BOOM* Ryan has asthma or *BAM* we flood the neighbor’s kitchen or *WHAPOW* vomit evvvvveryyyyywhere.
So now, I’m afraid to relax. Cuz if I do, Mike’s car will break down. Or I’ll somehow flush my wedding ring down the toilet. Or Belle will tear our leather couches to shreds.
Mostly, I keep thinking about the doctor’s appointment we’ve got for Ryan on Thursday. After my stressful weekend
, I expect to be feeling back to normal by Tuesday or Wednesday, which means Thursday would be just the right time to slam me with something I don’t see coming.
So I’m trying to prepare myself by considering all possible options, including (but not limited to) the following diagnoses:
The bubonic plague. (You thought you didn’t have to worry about that one, didn’t you? Well, maybe you’re a sucker.)
One arm is longer than the other and/or one leg is longer than the other. (How did we not notice that, we’ll cry.)
Male pattern baldness.
Foreign Accent Syndrome. (It’s a real thing – Google it.)
Pica. That’s the condition where you crave non-edible items, like paper or dirt. (This one might actually be true. He DID eat my grocery list once.)
A condition in which he may or may not be growing wings. We will be given two options: Pay $15,000 for a contraption that ensures he doesn’t sprout wings, or pay nothing and take our chances. (Thanks, Kelly, for helping me draft such a complete list.)
Ridiculously Cute Baby Disorder, perhaps?
Anything else I should add to the list?
I’m serious. Offer up anything you can think of. Do not tell me everything will be fine. I do not believe you. If you want to help, add things to worry about to my list. Ready…. go!