Of thee I dread

We all have those things in our lives that we dread. Death and taxes top most lists. I could list certain political figures but as I have recently been advised- and you know who you are, Cheryl - that I should tone down my political ranting, I will leave certain world leaders off this list. Anyway, for reasons we will get to later, I was recently reviewing my own inventory. My personal list includes:

The telephone ringing unexpectedly in the middle of the night. I know, I know, it is almost always some drunk woman fuzzily punching in numbers at a bar - "Whaa do ya mean? Yurrr not Bob?" - until that one time you pick up the phone and your life is changed forever.

Dentists. Full stop. Once you've had a needle full of novocaine snapped off in your gum, there's no middle ground concerning dental work anymore.

Stepping on the scales at the doctor's office. They are always, always, a good five pounds higher than my scales at home. No matter which doctor's office it is. Obviously this is a vast medical conspiracy to which no one - and I'm talking about you, New York Times! - is apparently willing to investigate.

And now we come to my most recent addition to the list. Tuesday morning. Not just any Tuesday morning, but this coming Tuesday morning. That's when Ben, my eldest, will walk out the backdoor, get on that yellow school bus, and in many ways motor out of my life.

I only recently came to this melodramatic conclusion. For the past few weeks I have been happily awaiting the start of school. After all, the endless rounds of trips to the park, bike rides, and sticky popsicle sticks were beginning to take their toll. I was actually happy - imagine that! - at the thought that this summer might be over. And then I suddenly realized that with the start of this school year, Ben will be gone. All day. Every weekday. No more rainy day morning trips to scope out Toys 'R Us, no more last minute excursions to visit the zoo. And that this will continue until he graduates and leaves my home forever.

Wow. The first real step out into the big world and away from Mommy. Preschool was just a bump on the shoulder compared to this. This is like a punch in the gut. I know it is the most hackneyed thing to say, but it's true: my little boy is growing up. And he's excited about this whole new adventure in his life, can't wait to go.

I, on the other hand, am a wreck. I need a drink. Where's the blender? I think a round of frozen margaritas would be quite nice before the summer is truly over.