13. I Appreciate
Your Concern
When I got home that night, my son Brat Boy was sitting on
the couch next to his sister, Blondie. My wife sat in an armchair, reading. The
outside temperature was a warm 41N, unusual for Pennsylvania in winter. I told them I planned to fish a local creek
for a few hours before dark. In all the time they had known me, I had fallen
into the creek once.
“Why don’t you fish a lake?” my wife asked. “A shallow one
with level banks.”
“If you fall in, you’ll die of hypothermia before you hit the
water,” Blondie said. Before I could argue, she asked, “Why don’t you watch the
fishing shows on TV instead?”
“Why don’t you roll up in bubble wrap and hide under the bed?”
Brat Boy asked. “You’ll be safe there.” Blondie elbowed him in the ribs.
“You’re sucking all the fun out of this,” I said, frustrated
I wouldn’t enjoy fishing as much knowing they were worried. I thought of all the people I’d annoyed by
telling them I was concerned about their substance use. Not once had I warned them out of spite, or a
desire to keep them from having fun.
“Let’s watch a movie. I can fish in the spring.”
Today I’ll try to be grateful for loved ones’
concern.
Needles Not For Knitting is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the
characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.
No comments:
Post a Comment