The best advice I’ve ever received is from my boyfriend, Chuck, who tells me time and again not to worry so much. This is nothing exactly new. My first-grade teacher, Mrs. Trainer, scolded me for worrying, and so did a neighbor lady down the street. I still worry, though, mainly over my sons. Take Alex, for instance, who lives in Peru. Is the health care any good there? Will he ever have a girlfriend? Does he get enough calcium?
