Young Love and Anxiety

My son met a girl today. He and his father were outside, Zane pedaling his bike, when Zane rode his bike over to a cute little girl on her bike. The little girl was with her mother. Zane asked the mama what the little girl's name was, Larry said. The little girl was right there in front of him, but Zane asked the mama for a proper introduction. This cute little girl is named Scarlet. Zane and Scarlet had a friendly conversation about their bikes which ended with the random fact that giraffes have ears. Typical small child communication.

When Larry related all this to me, my first thought was, "That hussy!" My second thought was, "She's what--two? What the heck are you worried about?" Because I AM worried. It's my nature to worry, unfortunately. Mostly I keep my worries to my self. Every single "what if?" that a person can think of runs through my thoughts. They play in a constant loop in the back of my mind, sort of like muzak. I probably should take medication for this.

All I could think about for the rest of the day is that my son and this girl are going to grow up on the same street, and he'll probably end up marrying her, and having 70 babies before she turns 25, and things sort of went south from there. Completely ridiculous stuff that, even if it were to happen, are too far in the future to predict all the ramifications. And I will go crazy before my son turns 5 at this rate.

I am going to have to figure out a way to stop this constant 8-track playing in my head. It was bad enough before I had a child! I was thinking that some sort of electrical jolt every time I find myself sidetracked with vague worries. Maybe a cattle prod? Too much?