Do you ever suffer with the *whatifs*......

My daughter A. was prone to the whatifs as she was growing up. When she had a particularly severe case I'd read her Shel Silverstein's poem "Whatif" -- my voice escalating with passion and terror until she disolved into fits of giggling. A quick and easy cure that worked every time.

Recently, I've come to realize her dad suffers from the same malady. Maybe they're genetic, I'm not sure. But....I can tell you they are contagious. When others so kindly share their whatifs with you, it's damn hard not to catch them -- or your own version of them. I wish J. could be cured as easily as his daughter -- by reading Silverstein's poem to him. Should I try it?

A.'s Silverstein books are hiding somewhere. I wish I knew where 'cause I'm in a Silverstein mood today. I did find his whatif poem online for anyone who suffers from them.

Whatif
from the book "A Light in the Attic" (1981)

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow tall?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!