Mothers Worry Best

In a race for the Triple Crown of Worry, mothers are always first out of the gate and last to cross the finish line. Mothers worry best because there’s a lot to worry about.

We worry about what our children CAN do. For instance, they learn new skills like kayaking, rock climbing or mountain biking. Then, they proceed to uncharted locations with their buddies to enjoy their new skills.

We worry about what our children CAN’T do. They can’t sit still in church. They can’t swallow a pill or keep their shoes tied. They can’t sleep through the night.

We worry about what they WILL do. They will take a Band-aid off as soon as it has been put on. They will scrape their knees and pick their noses and belch in public.

We worry about what they WON’T do. They won’t go to bed on time. They won’t pay attention to logic. They won’t "go potty" on demand.

We worry about what they SHOULD do. They should eat their vegetables and drink their milk. They should remember to take a jacket to a November football game.

We worry about what they SHOULDN’T do. They shouldn’t try a first cigarette just to see if they like smoking. They shouldn’t cross the street before looking both ways.

We worry about what they MIGHT do. They might break curfew. They might lose their retainer. They might tip over when the bicycle training wheels are taken off.

We worry about what they might NOT do. They might not fasten their seat belts when "cruising" with their friends. They might not stop picking their chicken pox scabs.

We worry about what they DO. They run when they should walk. They walk when they should run. They do dishes too slowly and watch TV sitcoms too quickly.

We worry about what they DON’T do. They don’t do their homework. They don’t clean their rooms. They don’t brush their teeth enough, and they seldom floss.

Over the years, mothers turn worry into an art form. The reason I’m so sure of this is that I visited my 87-year-old mom a few days ago. As I started for home, she set her mental clock for three-and-a-half hours, when I’d be calling her to report that I got home safely. She still worries about me, you know.