TM Prompt 240: Discuss an individual who has scared you.
My kids scare me all the time. I think every parent in the world exists in a state of constant fear about their offspring that often cannot be combated by logic, common sense, or even physical practicalities.
Before Beth was born, I was fairly blasé about the dangers of the world. Although I encountered murderers and rapists and generally unsavory individuals in court, I also knew that the likelihood of my ever coming into contact with them in my everyday life was minimal. I walked on busy streets. I went running on my own without telling anyone where I was going. I ate what I liked. I played rough games. Sometimes I hurt myself.
But once you've got a tiny little child in your arms, who depends on you simply to live, rationality goes out the window. Everything becomes a threat: traffic, pollen, peanuts, sugary snacks, the strange guy on your block, statistics on the news. It's a miracle that any parent ever lets their children go outdoors.
Beth scares me when she goes to a friend's house without telling me. Dylan scares me every time he cries. What if something happens? What if I can't figure out what Dylan's trying to tell me? What if I screw up?
You'd think, rationally, that the fear would go away after a while, once they can walk and talk and feed themselves, once they get a job and move out and have kids of their own. But, no, I'm not seeing that happening. They're my kids, and I'm going to be looking out for them, and worrying about them for life.
That's just what a parent does.
Before Beth was born, I was fairly blasé about the dangers of the world. Although I encountered murderers and rapists and generally unsavory individuals in court, I also knew that the likelihood of my ever coming into contact with them in my everyday life was minimal. I walked on busy streets. I went running on my own without telling anyone where I was going. I ate what I liked. I played rough games. Sometimes I hurt myself.
But once you've got a tiny little child in your arms, who depends on you simply to live, rationality goes out the window. Everything becomes a threat: traffic, pollen, peanuts, sugary snacks, the strange guy on your block, statistics on the news. It's a miracle that any parent ever lets their children go outdoors.
Beth scares me when she goes to a friend's house without telling me. Dylan scares me every time he cries. What if something happens? What if I can't figure out what Dylan's trying to tell me? What if I screw up?
You'd think, rationally, that the fear would go away after a while, once they can walk and talk and feed themselves, once they get a job and move out and have kids of their own. But, no, I'm not seeing that happening. They're my kids, and I'm going to be looking out for them, and worrying about them for life.
That's just what a parent does.