Yesterday The Prude referred to her Disapproval Toolbox. Today she will introduce you
to a drawer in this toolbox. This drawer was standard equipment and though she doesn’t really want it, but she had no choice.
She is the reluctant owner of a Worry Drawer.
(Note- it may seem The Prude is plagiarizing like crazy from an excellent humorist and author named Patrick McMannus who wrote about a Worry BOX. But note that a Drawer is a lot different than a Box, and The Prude had this Worry Drawer long before she ever heard of Patrick McManus. She just never thought to give it a name)
In this Worry Drawer are several smaller compartments with generic names: ‘Things I Forgot’, ‘Things I’m Afraid Of’, ‘Things Going On With Extended Family and Friends’, ‘Things Over Which I Have No Control’ and ‘Bats’.
The contents of these smallcompartments may change on a daily basis, but they are rarely full.
However, the 4 large compartments are always filled to overflowing. The Prude can’t even shut them.
There is one for her husband and one for each of her sons.
The ‘Husband’ one is almost manageable. After all, his mother, as mothers are wont to do, shares a small portion of the contents with Prude Wife. Every little bit helps.
Son #1, #2 and #3 compartments always had contents spilling out because there was so much about which to worry. Sometimes The Prude had to temporarily store Son worries in other compartments, such as ‘Bats’ (ie.- worry that sons would be bitten by rabid bats)
Then Son #2 got married, and with great relief The Prude handed the vast majority of his Worry Compartment contents to his wife, who is managing them beautifully. Only a few worries remain in the Prude Toolbox, such as ‘did I teach him the proper way to eat spaghetti?’ and ‘does she remind him to watch out for drunk drivers?’
When Son #1 married this summer, The Prude gleefully emptied his Worry Compartment
into the one owned by his wife, and thought she could finally begin to use the extra space to catch the overflow of ‘Things I Forgot’.
But then, last evening, the wife of Son #1 called to say he was sick in bed. Obviously she couldn’t fit any more in her ‘Husband’ Worry Compartment and needed to share some of it.
Immediately The Prude could feel Son #1 Worry Compartment expand to the point of explosion.
She spent most of the night sorting through the compartment and praying over the contents in an effort to get them under control.
And although the pediatrician tried for decades to drum into The Prude’s head to let sleeping children sleep, she called poor Son #1 at 6:30 this morning.
He was feeling a bit better.
So his Worry Compartment, while still full, can almost shut.
But she will be delving back into it and praying over the contents till he is all better.
Moral of the story: The Prude will never experience ‘Empty Worry Compartment Syndrome’