For the Love

I ADORE my mother. In most circumstances she is a best friend. She loves me, still takes care of me, and busts her butt to make me happy and my life better.
And then she loses it for brief moments and I go WHA??? Not WHAT, but WHA? Say it out loud, you'll like the way it sounds.
Anyway, I'm fighting off a mild cold and took some meds last night before bed. Still a little groggy this morning I dozed while Miss C watched "fifi in bed." I sometimes turn off the phone ringers, and my cell phone was on vibrate still from the Sip and See baby shower I was at Sunday. I have also not yet responded to her email about cinnamon pecans for Thanksgiving. So my mom can't reach me for like an hour and a half-tops. She emails my husband worried to pieces I have fallen, passed out, or been kidnapped. By the time she reaches me she is frantic-it's only 9:30am. She's called, he's called, it's bananas. He, thank goodness, had not rushed home in a panic. When I reach him he's laughing-at me. Like I'm the cause of the morning's broohaha. I remind him he chose me and therefore my family. That at least quells some of the laughing.
She sees part of her guilt in over-reacting, but if I had just answered her phone call and email, this could have been avoided. Yes, ma'am.