But that's dangerous!

I'm a pretty cautious person, rule-oriented, inclined to consider worst-case scenarios. A timid, tepid sort of soul, really. Yet in the eyes of my mother-in-law, I'm an adventurer.

The oldest child in a poor but upwardly aspiring Southern rural family, Marilyn married young. Her husband, Keith's father, was a schoolteacher, so there never was much money, yet Marilyn never worked outside the home. Scrimping is thus bred into her bones; it structures her approach not just to money matters but to life. Holding back, being careful, regarding the world as hostile and unpredictable--these are attitudes that have served Marilyn well. "But that's dangerous!" is her mantra. (You have to imagine this voiced plaintively in the country accent of central Louisiana to get the full effect.)

Compared to Marilyn, I'm a wanton, and Keith and I live lives of great recklessness. We're buccaneers, willing to place even our children in peril. We let them them lick the batter from the bowl (raw eggs!), bicycle around the neighborhood (cars!), fly across the Atlantic alone at age 8 (hijackings!), and, in then-15-year-old Owen's case, spend six months in South Africa (too many dangers to put between parentheses!).

I love it. When I'm with Marilyn, when I see myself through Marilyn's eyes, I'm transfigured. I'm no longer a menopausal mom with a stagnant academic career and a cat litter box in need of cleaning and a lawn in need of mowing. Instead, I'm Marion careening through Egypt on a jeep with Indiana Jones. I'm Rose saving the Doctor. I'm Princess Leia leading the rebellion. I'm Katherine Hepburn braving the snakes and leeches with Humphrey Bogart on the African Queen.

Actually, I hate leeches. I rarely exceed the speed limit. I've never shot a gun. I read warning labels. In times of crisis, I sit down and cry.

Maybe I should ask my mother-in-law to visit more often.