Long Live the Worry Child

We worriers are a special breed. Rarely confused with, but surprisingly similar to, the warriors we soldier on into a concerning world all the while contemplating every little thing that can go wrong. It’s not the sort of life someone in their right mind would choose, it’s hardly as if it’s a natural talent we can help. Who would choose to count through the ways a certain set of circumstances would kill or injure them? Not a sane person for sure.

And yet, you can’t have absolutely everyone float through life as if they didn’t have a care in the world. It’s not possible for us all to be forever happy go lucky. Because I said so. Otherwise it’s simply unfair. If people don’t obsessively pore over the minutiae of modern life in order to uncover the various ways in which it can all go tits up in double quick time then there’s no opportunity to fix the initial issue.

Some people have the ability to worry thrust upon them. They’re jauntily burbling along and then through some event or other it’s made clear to them that the world is a scary and troubling place. This is very sad and we should be concerned about these poor souls. However, they’re not the worry children I’m referring to at the moment. Not that they shouldn’t live long too.

But it’s the innate worriers we should pay especial homage to (it’s definitely not that I’m just jealous in the run up to Father’s day and am scheming to get a holiday set aside in my honour). The worry child might be ever so slightly more anxious than its peers but its careful way of proceeding through the world will no doubt lead to fewer broken bones at the very least. Which will no doubt contribute nicely to the longevity they deserve.

Song choices courtesy of: Frank Tuner and The Piano Guys

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