13 Comments

  • Scott says:

    Is that how she really said it? Or is thus typing after a late night? Lol

    • Andy says:

      Whoops! You’re spot on. Late night writing is not a good idea. too bad it’s practically the only kind of writing Charlie and I do. 😉 Thanks!

  • Monica says:

    I think that once you have a child that it becomes mandatory to worry all the time. Of course you worry about your hubby pre-kids, but after kids – it is just crazy the amount of worrying that goes on in a woman’s head. I can’t even watch the news anymore.

    • Les says:

      I don’t watch the news anymore either. I don’t have a clue what evil crap is going on around me and ignorance is bliss. It’s not even so much the worry, as it is the overwhelming sadness.

      • Andy says:

        You’re a smart person. There’s enough worry in the world without watching the news, the Olympics of worry.

  • Spinning 1000 plates makes even the tiniest things feel like big worries…. I hate that men never let anything phase them. Snot fair.

  • Stephanie K. says:

    My mom told me that once you have kids, the worrying never stops. Doesn’t matter how old your kids are or how long you’ve been married. It just never stops.

    …I’m beginning to realize how very true this is…

    • Andy says:

      Never. In fact, like a fine wine, it gets better with the passage of time.

  • Rachel A. says:

    *justification alert*

    I wouldn’t call it necessarily “worry” all the time, I just prepare myself for all possible outcomes. Of course the negative outcomes are the ones that I focus on cause I want to do all that I can to prevent them.

    As a mom, preparedness sometimes means worrying all the time.

    • Andy says:

      What you’re sellin’ I’m buyin’. That what I’m going to tell people from now on when I’m s##tting in my pants as a parent. Ha ha!

  • Catherine says:

    Ha ha ha. Enlightened woman she is!

  • Christina says:

    Lol I’ve done this. Even after my son disappeared from the play room at the science center during the 5 seconds it took for me to buckle my daughter in her carseat. It never occurred to me he’d be perfectly fine swinging on a pole by the admissions desk. The thoughts that crossed my mind was that he had crashed through the thick glass banister into the alligator pool below, was hiding in a corner alone and scared, or went out the exit into the parking garage, or was snatched by some malicious child molester – especially that last one…

    But I suppose this worry was 100% justified. Unlike when I thought my husband got in a plane crash or had his lover pick him up from the airport when I couldn’t find him at the arrival gate…

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