I'll Take It

So, last night we were sitting at the table just talking after dinner, and Josh shared a fear he has about deep water with sticks in it. As the conversation continued he laughed about his irrational thoughts that "something" could get him in said waters (I think he was a bit embarrassed to be making his confession.) and I felt compelled to share my own irrational fears, just to let him know he isn't alone.
Because I was so excited that he was still at the table with us! I wanted to keep it going. *wink*

Anyway, I told the guys about my long-standing phobia regarding our laundry room in the basement. Until recently, when I would turn off the light and go upstairs (This trek involves walking through the bathroom, a small hallway, around the corner, and up the steps.) I had the ridiculous worry that a bad guy was going to jump out of the shadows and attack me. I told them that when no one else was home I would run that distance - but when others were here, I tried to act calm about it. *ahem*
I also told them about the comfort it gave me when I knew one of them knew I was down there. Because if I did't come up in a reasonable time I felt confident someone would come to check on me. (If they hadn't heard my screams when the bad guy attacked.) But if they weren't home and they didn't know I was downstairs doing laundry, well? I feared they might not miss me until...
"Dinner time!" Matthew suggested.
Brian added, "Yeah. My clothes aren't clean, and I'm hungry. Where's Mom?"
We all were laughing, but I feigned heartbreak and said, "Awww, come on, guys!"
And Josh came to my rescue with these words: "It's OK. We love you, Mom."
I smiled and thought, Well, that was pretty close to having my 19-year-old son say, "I love you, Mom."

I'm still cherishing the moment. *sigh*