To a pregnant woman, what is even more treacherous than an imported cheese platter, is listening to soft rock radio. It's like a field of sappiness, loaded with landmines the likes of Rod Stewart and James Taylor. Inevitably, Forever Young by Rod Stewart comes on and there I am driving down 670 a blubbering mess of tears and hormones. This has happened more than once, as it seems the lyrics of the song really get to me when I'm pregnant and I'm powerless to stop the tears.
The other night I was having dinner with clients and there was a couple there who were very concerned about the career choices their adult was son making. I sat there listening to them, making sympathetic noises and thinking this is what people mean when they say I won't sleep for the next 40 years because I'll constantly be worried about the The Olive. And on those future sleepless nights, I'll do well to remember the crying mess I was each time I heard the Forever Young song, especially these last couple lines:
And when you finally fly away
I’ll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell
But whatever road you choose
I’m right behind you, win or lose
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