I excel at crazy-making prognostication.
It usually starts with an itchy, anaphalactic feeling at the back of my throat and spreads like a fever, until it has me jumping out of my seat and pacing the house like a caged animal.
Sometimes my worst fears are realized; other times, it's just PMS.
Right now, I find myself rocking in my seat and wondering where the latest threat is coming from. Health concerns, house worries, economic woes--I have a little of all these on my plate right now.
I should be pleased with the fact that my older boy is suddenly wise beyond his years. He told his chief tormentor this am (I saw him do it from the bus stop) that he has a choice--leave him alone or he goes to the principal.
I'm teaching him to fire a warning shot across the bow before attacking. There are reasons that this is necessary, but he doesn't necessarily know them. Nor do I, but hard knocks have taught me that it's so, regardless of the reason.
He smiled at me from his seat, and waved, as the bus drove away.
That's a first.
He's going to be okay. Regardless of whatever happens.