The Call All Mothers Fear

Is not, "This is Madame Secretary from SSOTH, and I'm calling to say there has been an accident," but rather a somewhat hysterical sounding son calling you at work to say,

"MUM!! I am calling to warn you that you must BEWARE when you get home. BEWARE of your daughters! They've invented A WHOLE NEW TYPE OF WEDGIE!!! Arrrrgggghhhh!" and then hanging up abruptly.

Firstly, I didn't think it was even possible for there to be more than one sort of wedgie, I mean...it's pretty self-evident that it's a one style kind of torture, right? Secondly, calling me to tell me about it when I'm at work...exactly what does the Perfect Mothering Handbook say to do in these situations? Put down your piping bag and run home? Call the fire department? Silently panic to yourself but carry on making pretty little cake decorations? What, exactly, was I meant to do here? I'm pretty sure "crisis brought on by daughters who have invented a new type of wedgie hitherto not known to man" is not one of those parenting things they write about in those "How To Raise Daughters" books.

Some time later I did eventually make it home, and while I was spared the experience myself, I have it on good soprano-singing authority that the new type of wedgie is in fact an evil thing known as ... a FRONT wedgie.

No wonder the poor kid feared for his life.

Me, I feared for my future grandkids (who are now looking doubtful thanks to this new wedgie innovation.)

Ahhh, parenthood. Always something new to fear.