My son is driving back to St Louis tomorrow which means I will not sleep, eat, or think until he arrives safely. He’s done it before but like every good mom I worry my little head off.
Distract me!
Convince me there is nothing to worry about!
Tell me something! Anything! That will make me not worry so much!
Send valium!
Hey, I’m going to be driving from CA to RI in a few weeks, wanna take the load off my mom’s mind and worry about me for her? 
What in the world is that ------------------->???
*wanders in, naked. yawns, scratches his ass and begins rummaging through the fridge. Having discovered a full carton of milk, he begins pouring it down his gullet, and walks back out, still scratching his ass
[Steve Martin]
What the hell is that? Hey! Hey, kid! Don’t put your lips on that!
What the hell is that?
[/Steve Martin]
Sorry, but I took all the valium. strips nekkid, saunters toward you But, hey baby, I got all the distraction you need right her…collap’s in a heap :::SNOOOOOOORE-GRUNT-GRUNT-DROOL::: [sub]ehhh… mommy?[/sub]
When I told my mom I was going to drive from Minnesota to Colorado, I thought she was going to have a heart attack. The more possibilities she gave me, the more scared I got about my trip. Now I’m mad at her for it because I’m nervous about going. Damn it anyway.
(I’m still going though, paranoid mothers be damned.)
<Runs frantically towards the sound of the pitiful cries for help>
<Sees the predicament Diane’s gotten herself into, wrapped in a web of fear and paranoia>
<Picks up a large rock and lifts it high over my head>
<SMASHES the rock on Diane, squooshing her flat and forever ending her misery>
THE END
He’ll be fine, hon. He’ll be very careful, I’m sure. He wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise, or he’d have you to contend with. You think the poor kid wants that? 
Jeg elsker dig, Thomas
Well,
My son was in Florence, Italy, up until last week. Now he is traveling around Europe, for a week. Then he will come home. I don’t even know what country he is in, right now! Vague plans included Amsterdam. He said his phone card didn’t work in Italy. He is not in Italy now, but still no calls.
But I have to admit, I’m not worried. He is an astoundingly competent, and rational young man. (Bright too. Did I mention that I am proud of him?) This is his second semester abroad. (Did I mention that academic authorities in three countries my share my high opinion of him?)
But, enough about Him.
Kids stop being kids. They turn into adults. It’s tough on their parents. But, they do it. The overwhelming majority of them do it well, too.
OK, enough about your son. Mine is coming home this week! I miss him. He is going back to school, though in the fall.
sigh
“The difference between a violin and a viola is that a viola burns longer.” ~ Victor Borge ~
I was wondering how He was going to drive His car back from Italy. Then I saw He got the capitalization and all was clear. Along with the trip to Italy. Checking up on His underlings in Rome, was He?
Don’t worry Diane, homicidal maniacs rarely troll the highways searching for poor motorists whose car has broken down on some dark, deserted stretch of road, say around St. Louis- maybe in Utah somewhere, to commit unspeakable atrocities upon there innocent heads. That’s so passé. Here, have some more coffee. A third cup of Espresso?
-Rue.
Thanks everyone!
He should be about 10 miles away by now and I am already in a panic. He’s made this drive a couple of times before and has been fine, but still in spite of my care package (which includes sandwiches and bandaids for who knows what), his pinky swear promise to stop and sleep if he feels tired, to get a hotel tonight, and wear his seatbelt, I still get these images. . . . :eek:
I’ll be glad when he gets to St Louis.
At least your not MY mom - I picked up and left home without telling anyone. Joined the carnival in South Carolina, five and a half states away. Called her three days after I got there.
Anyway - wanna play cards wwhile you’re waiting? I have a Chippendales deck.
Okay, the four of hearts is a little smudgy, as is the eight of clubs. And the Jack of spades. And all of the sevens…
Um, wanna play Monopoly?
Trisk gotta ask - are you a mom or a dad? My bet is a dad. Dad’s don’t seem to do the same level of ohmygodwhatcanhappen stuff that moms do.
I drove from Lansing MI to West Virginia with a barely potty trained toddler once. And from Lansing to Sarasota when the toddler was 6. and again when he was 10. Never thought a moment about it being a problem. Of course, had my mother been alive, she would have been in a panic.
Diane I’ll be glad to play cards or whatever to help distract you - my son’s only 17 and he wants to go to Mardi Gras next year ( :eek: )
I wonder if it would be technologically possible to put a GPS on your kids cars and then track his or her location on your computer. You know have a little map with a moving blip on it so you could watch the car all the way. Heck why not just put a GPS on the kid? Surgically inplant one at birth for ‘the saftey of the children’ of course.
I’ve got a good story for you to show you what I put my mom through.
So I get out of the Navy in San Diego, right? I’m gonna drive back to Michigan, right?
Well, I figure, I might as well see some of the country while I’m jobless and “full” of money so…
I take 2 weeks camping and driving through the west to home.
[ul]
[li]San Diego to Yosemite for 2 days[/li][li]Yosemite to Tahoe for a day[/li][li]Tahoe over to the coast to see the redwoods[/li][li]Up the coast in to Crater Lake[/li][li]Down across Oregon to eventually make my way to Denver to visit a couple friends[/li][li]From there to home, taking my own sweet time[/li][/ul]
Poor mom. She recovered, but barely!
Unless you’re my dad.
While we were visiting him in Germany a few months ago I took the kids to Rome on the train. My dad took us to the train station the day before and made us practice finding the platforms (uhh. . . Is platform G2 the one with the sign that says “G2”?) and timed how long it would take to get from one to another. I mean, he literally clocked us with his watch. We had to do this over and over until his was semi-satisfied we could at least head toward Italy instead of Norway.
The night before we left he didn’t sleep. He kept looking at our train schedule and asking - for the 1000th time, if I was sure I had hotel reservations and if I was sure I could read the signs and made me promise to check the lock on our sleeping car.
He walked us to the train station 1 hour early and then drilled us on the proceedures and reminded us to not talk to strangers (pssshaaaw - ME? Not talk to strangers? He should know better by now).
I had to promise to call him the minute we got to Rome - which I did. Although I assured him that everything went well and that we hadn’t been kidnapped or murdered, he reminded me again everything that he had told me the previous two days.
My step-mom said he paced the floor, couldn’t sleep or eat, and worried the entire time we were gone.
Oh, and I am 39 years old!
Dads. Ya gotta love em.
Okay, now who wants to play 5 card stud?
Oh, and I like the GPS suggestion!
Moms may mean well, but they can be bad. A couple of years ago, some friends from another board passed thru. They had a layover at the train station. She was upset and nervous when I went to visit them.
In midtown Manhattan - Penn Station.
I grew up in Queens - this is hometown advantage - me.
1 PM a Saturday afternoon.
I was 39, 6’1", 235 lbs.
Slightly overprotective?
Diane,
You. must. chill.
Actually, I think it’s sweet when parents worry. The first time I heard “call as soon as you get there!!!” was when I got married (my mother in law).
Anywhoo, distraction…let’s see. Why don’t you call up the TMI thread and read that over? That’s good for hours of ick, ewww, and WHAT??? That should keep you busy!
Zette
Your dad and my dad may have been separated at birth, Diane. My mom is fairly easygoing about my ability to not get myself killed, but dad, oy…
Example:
I have lived in NYC for most of the last five years. My dad went to school in Manhattan several decades ago, and only visits the city now if I force him to. However, he seems certain that I know nothing about how to protect myself and that I risk death and dismemberment every time I leave my apartment alone, because I can’t possibly know my way around and will become horribly lost. I think he’s convinced that my idea of personal safety involves walking naked through Times Square with $100 bills taped to my skin.
I mentioned in passing to my mom (on instant messenger) that I had gotten what seemed to be an old-fashioned obscene phone call. Heavy breathing-- I was so surprised that anyone would actually do heavy breathing (seemed so retro) that I thought it was funny. Unfortunately my dad read the message over her shoulder and spent the next week convinced I was being stalked. Which in turn made me nervous! I love my dad, but I can see where I get my own worrier gene from.
What Diane hasn’t made clear yet is that her son is four years old, and that he’s driving to St. Louis on his BigWheel.
I’m a bit nervous about the little nipper, myself. I-70 can get hairy up around Hyde Park.