…or maybe not last words, although I suppose they could be. “There’s nothing to worry about,” are words that characters would be wise not to use in that order, and I need to stop saying “It’ll be done soon!” when it comes to writing a book. I’m not superstitious, but that seems to be a surefire way to stall out. So I won’t say that, instead I’ll say that I’m on the last chapter of “Lochlan Museum,” and… I have no idea when I’ll finish it.

Life, or maintaining it, has seriously gotten in the way of living it lately. All sorts of things, some expected and others unexpected, have kept me constantly occupied. The longest I’ve had the chance to sit, was four weeks ago, during the dentist appointment to prep 13 teeth for crowns. That took all day. I brought my immersive headphones and listened to my eight-hour playlist the whole time. It was sort of nice to have a chance to be still, for a change. The next visit, to crown those 13, and prep the next 6, wasn’t as relaxing. My phone was going nuts, I knew someone had to be texting up a storm, and then Brad gave up and called me. Which was really odd, since he knew I was at the dentist’s office. The dentist kindly instituted a break in the procedure at that point, and I answered. He was stressed, he said Em called, said “Dad,” then her phone went dead. I looked at my messages, and saw that she sent two texts, “Mom,” and “I have a problem.” And yes, her phone, iPad, everything was dead.

Poor Brad was about to have a conniption. We had no way to reach her. She’s a teenager, it ought to be safe to leave her home with the alarm system on, a golden retriever for defense, and a cat that would probably do more damage to an intruder than he would. The alarm was still armed, so no one got in–or out. She had a problem though, she thoughtfully made sure to point that out as her battery breathed its last volt.

Brad said all  he knew for sure, was that she was going to get grounded from all her devices as a consequence for not keeping them charged. I didn’t bother pointing out that grounding her from using them, because she couldn’t use them, didn’t exactly make sense. Not only was he not in the mood to hear it, but my front teeth were in the process of getting temporary crowns, and my mouth was incredibly numb. I could barely speak legibly. He decided he’d have to handle it, whatever it was. He took off work and headed home. Several minutes later, she answered a message on her iPad, and said she was talking to her dad on her phone, which was charging. I sent him the name of her pediatrician’s office, and he took it from there. I decided it was a great opportunity to trust God with what I had no control over, and did.

I wouldn’t say she’s the child that cries wolf… but I would say she’s the child that sees imaginary wolves. Often. She keeps us busy. She’s also stoic, so she’ll matter-of-factly mention that her knee hurts. Then she says the same thing again, a week later. Finally I think huh, maybe her knee really hurts. So we go to the doctor, end up getting an MRI, and discover her knee is fractured. So… my name is Mom, and I fight imaginary wolves. Because sometimes, they aren’t imaginary, after all.

I got through with my appointment, got outside, got in my vehicle, and called Brad, just in time to talk to the pediatrician. I felt the need to explain that I was at the dentist all afternoon, had dental work, temporary caps in front, my mouth was numb, and I felt like I was wearing a mouth guard. So she didn’t expect me to sound normal. She didn’t need to understand me anyway, she was the one that had something important to say. I was thankful for the timing so that I could hear it myself, thankful Em is fine, thankful Brad was able to handle that, and that the pediatrician’s office is awesome, and gets us in right away. I guess they prefer to battle imaginary wolves too, rather than let the live ones get past.

Now I’m going to get back to Lochlan Museum and… I really hope I can get this chapter finished in a timely manner. As long as no more wolves are sighted, there’s a chance.