As long as I can remember, I have been a worrier. When trying to pinpoint when this began, I see my dad bringing me, his 6 year-old daughter, an 80-foot chain ladder to keep under my bed. The idea, he said, was if there was ever a fire, I could throw this ladder over my windowsill and climb down to safety. I was 6, probably about 45 pounds, and I was supposed to throw this 80-foot chain ladder over the window and climb down three stories to safety, meanwhile the house is so engulfed in flames that I can't run down a flight of stairs to the front door to get out.
So the 80-foot chain ladder was put under my bed and I would go to sleep at night praying that there would never be a fire so I didn't have to endeavor lifting that ladder and throwing out the window. And upon turning 10, there was the new element of how I would hold our two new puppies while climbing down the three stories on the chain ladder!
But the 80-foot chain ladder was never moved, and upon my departure to college, it was still there, under my bed, collecting dust. So thank you, Daddy, for taking care of me and wanting me to be safe. And maybe, just maybe, turning me into the worrier I am today!