I mentined this in a recent thread. My mom doesn’t like me using my cellphone (um, for its normal talk to-to-people purposes not the swallowing kind). She hates it.
She says: “You know I don’t like it when you walk and talk at the same time!”
You should’ve just stuck with a juggling chainsaws analogy.
So how much time you got left?
Hey! I triple posted! Did I hit a slow time? Do I get a prize?
So did I tell you about the nifty new scar I got from a crush-scrape-2nd degree burn? :o
That’s the nice thing about scooters - they don’t hurt as bad if they fall on you. Well the burn is healed, but my pride has been wounded for-ev-er.
Clean underwear? My Mom says that motorcyclists should always shave their legs, 'cause it’s much harder for the nurses to do it after they get that compound fracture. Guess what Dad stopped doing when I was born?
Of course he also stopped putting sugar on his cereal, because that would be bad for my teeth. And he quit smoking. He took the fatherhood thing pretty seriously.
At this point…-7 years. I look good for a zombie I think.
Crikey, Zsofia, that’s the answer right there! 
She doesn’t know how to react to this. You can always tell her I’ll trade places with her (JK!), and it comes with the added bonus of getting to worry from 900 miles away!
This thread reminds me of my husband’s grandmother, who takes worrying to epic proportions.
When he visited Florida, she urged him to be careful because ‘‘there’s a new kind of mosquito’’ down there.
Once, while he was doing a psychology internship at a camp in New Hampshire, his mother got a call from grandmother.
She had seen a news story about a storm in New Hampshire that had knocked a tree into a telephone pole, and she wanted to make sure he was okay.
I would like to fully confess that I will be exactly this sort of grandmother when I am old. That is all.
My mother is constantly nagging me every time I have a little drink, because I’m not supposed to drink too much, on account of my seizures. Even though I’ve stressed time and again that my neurologist said a drink or two is fine.
I swear, it just makes me want to go right out and get completely shitfaced, just to piss her off.
My mother’s gotten terribly fretful since her stroke. It’s like she starts getting wound up and can scale it back to reasonable proportions. Last week she couldn’t get in touch with my sister for a couple days. By day three, she’s assumed my sister’s 93-year-old mother-in-law had died and my sister and family were travelling to the funeral. And when I said, “why didn’t you just call her on her cellphone”, she said she didn’t want to run up my sister’s minutes!
If there’s any threat of hostile weather she’s very worried about me. I explained that my house has stood for 160 years, I’m sure it’ll continue to stand a few more, but she worries because I live alone.
The thing is, I think she understands that the stroke has affected her, but she can’t make that question her logic to worry anytime she hears there’s something to give most people mild concern.
StG