The Recalcitrant Brother Has Become a Fretter

My dad is the biggest fretter in our family.  He can’t sleep until everyone is home.  He worries that we’re not eating well or that we’re about to run out of money or that the Butcher will never get his life together.

I used to be a big fretter, too.  But I’m trying to get better about it.  I’m still not great.  I still would like to know weeks in advance when I have to do something and where I’m going and when I need to be there.  I want to know if the Butcher is coming home or not.  I’m concerned the cats might have scurvy and that I should be observing them carefully for signs.  I really want Sarcastro to come over and oversee the unclogging of my drain.

But those things are not necessary.   The world will not stop spinning if I’m not fretting about it.  And so I’m trying to learn to let that stuff go.

The recalcitrant brother never used to fret about anything.  Hence part of the reason I call him the recalcitrant brother.  A man who knows about fretting would never vanish for six weeks and not tell anyone where he was; he’d know how painful that would be, especially to a family of fretters.

But lately?

He’s called up concerned that the reason the Butcher keeps wrecking my car is that the Butcher has an undiagnosed brain tumor.  And now, he and my dad are down in Georgia fretting over the state of my tub drain.

Y’all, I’m sure that, in a decade, this will be as annoying as all get out.

But for now?

I can’t even begin to tell you how nice it is.

2 thoughts on “The Recalcitrant Brother Has Become a Fretter

  1. I think I’m turning into one of those Fretting parents. Now that I have teens, when they’re oot and aboot doing whatever, there’s a hint of nervousness until I hear them come in the door. And they aren’t even driving yet!!!! WAAAAAA!

  2. Just wait until one of them becomes a fretter as well. I fret about my parents whenever they’re on the road. It drives them crazy.

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