The agonizing minutes tick slowly by as you wait for your cell phone to ring. Finally, the Rookie Driver calls to tell you that he has arrived at his destination and you are forever grateful that he did so unscathed. Later, he calls again to let you know he is on his way home and you wait breathlessly until you hear the familiar whine of the garage door and him pulling inside. Day in and day out, the horrendous dance of waiting on pins-and-needles continues each time the Rookie Driver is behind the wheel. How in the world did my parents do this? Nothing alleviates this relentless torture. You think the worse things imaginable and the irrefutable nagging in the back of your mind escalates into the awful scenario that plays over and over in your head like a broken record of what “could” happen. It’s enough to make you go completely mad.
Where is Hugh Jackman when you need him? I wish he made house calls.
5 comments:
I'm just sitting here thinking of the fact that I watch the clock when B goes into a public men's room without a "chaperone" (aka his little brother)....I wonder how our local bus system is? :)
Me-
I used to worry about the men's bathroom and school bus. I never knew what happened and I couldn't go with him.
I can't imagine. I hope he does well and you can relax a little (?!) soon!
Okay, I'm not laughing this time. I'm actually feeling your anxiety. You poor soul. Hugs!
Julie & Debbie-
I try to take one day at a time. All I know is that this is slowly killing me. I think hubby wanted MONK to drive so he could collect on my life insurance. :)
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