What me worry?

Every once in awhile I would like to kick my daughter's ass...literally! This morning I was peacefully and so very untypically being organized about tending to my mound of paperwork when I got a call from her Bolivian boyfriend. Remember my daughter is ohh so very far way in London. He said some words in Spanish I didn't understand and I could hear that he was on the Tube, as I could hear the train moving down the tracks. I said "Fernando is that you?" I have never really talked to him. Mostly because I can't. Because I don't speak Spanish and he doesn't speak much English.

Well he keeps saying "Alia" (my daughter's name) and saying "I'm sorry" over and over. The blood drains from my body, my heart is racing and I ask him if Alia is okay. He says something about "work" and keeps repeating he is sorry and then we get disconnected.

I am in a crazy panic by then. I try calling her cell via Skype and I get the answering machine. I dig for Fernando's number and call my friend Jim who has spoken to Fernando before because Jim actually speaks Spanish and I had him grill Fernando once. Jim is calm... "Can you call him back and record what he says." Say what? This is not a translation project that you can transcribe and get back to me in a week on....this is about my daughter and Fernando is sorry about something!!!! Okay, Jim gets it now cause my voice is quavering and I am falling apart. I keep trying to call Fernando via Skype Out ( it's the only way I know to dial another country). Finally, well like within 20 minutes but of course it felt like a lifetime, Jim calls me back and says that he reached Fernando and he was sorry because he had dialed the wrong number and was trying to reach Alia on her cell phone. Ugh!!! But big sigh of relief!

About two seconds after I hang up with Jim I get a phone call from Alia and her tone is bitchy....."Mom- why do you always have to assume the worst!!! He dialed the wrong number and was trying to call me because he was late for work. I got to go, I'm working...." and she hangs up the phone. Ugh ugh ugh!!!! I shoot off an email to her immediatly... Think like a mom every once an awhile for Christs sake!!! What am I supposed to think when Fernando keeps repeating your name and saying I'm sorry and we can't communicate because of the langauge barrier and I can't just trot on over to the pub you are working at to check if you are still breathing???? Did you fall on the tracks??? Are you in the hospital??? What is he so damn sorry for??? After I shoot off the email I have to call my mom (Second Mom as Alia calls her) for comfort and to calm me down. She understands because alas! I have put her thru similar things many a time. What goes around comes around I suppose. What can I tell you... I am a mom, and I will always worry. Now back to that paperwork....