This doesn't make sense to everyone, but even though I'm an optimist I always plan for the worst case scenario to happen. In fact, I expect it to. That way when it doesn't I feel like I'm the luckiest person on earth.
For instance - if I have to take my car in to the mechanic, I always assume it will take the entire amount (to the penny) of whatever we have in savings to fix it. That way when the mechanic calls and lists some amount that would normally cause my heart to completely stop, I feel like I got off easy.
Usually this helps me save my sanity. Today it made for some very amused conversation.
You see, as I was leaving my house to take daughter #2 to her swim team practice my cell phone rang. I did not recognize the number, and when I answered it I did not immediately recognize the voice.
Me: Hello?
Voice: Hello, is this Air Force Guy's Mother?
Me: What? [very long pause] NO! This is his wife!
At this point my mind went several places:
Place One: Did AFG forget to change his emergency notification when we got married multiple digit years ago?
Place Two: Do I sound like someone old enough to be AFG's mother? You've got to be kidding me! I sound old now, too?
Place Three: Is this some two-bit hussy trying to cause some issues? Because I know just how to deal with that!
As it turns out, the call was about any of that. You see, my son and AFG have the same first name. Although I didn't recognize her voice, the woman calling was my son's catechism teacher and she wanted to let me know CCD was cancelled for next week.
And if I were "normal" person who didn't always plan worst case scenarios, I probably would have figured that little fact out very quickly - it's just that I've never gotten a phone call for my son before! A quick explanation to the Catechist was in order, but luckily her husband is retired Army and she knew exactly what the communication issue was.
Apparently, the "hope for the best, plan for the worst" mindset is nothing new to military spouses, and we had quite a little laugh over it - especially the hussy part (the boy's catechist is quite a bit older than we are).
I'm thinking, though, to head off this particular problem in the future we should probably start calling my son by his nickname in public.
His nickname is Poops McGee.
Maybe there's another solution...
