Yesterday, Finder Not Keeper officially opened. The image above captures my feelings exactly. Exhilaration. Elation. Excitement.

But also fear.

Let's talk about fear. I'm from the school of worse-case-scenarios. I sit in a movie theater and count the rows to the exit. I memorize license plates of cars that might contain kidnapped children. I made my kids practice climbing out their bedroom windows onto the sunporch roof. I am a defensive driver, a defensive skier, a defensive swimmer. (No flashy jewelry that can attract sharks.) 

It stems from my own childhood, of course.

This anecdote sums it up. One boring summer day, my siblings and I decided to make a fire in our garage. No, nothing terrible happened unless you count getting caught. My mother took away the matches, hollered at us, and with normal parents, that would be that. 

Not so with mine. The next day, my father, a pediatrician, brought home a hardcover book from his office. We eventually named it The Burn Book and spent the rest of the summer pouring over its lurid images of pediatric burn victims. Fun! 

(I've said it before and I'll say it again, those were the days of maverick parenting. It was the Vietnam era after all, and back then, helicopter parenting meant something different. It meant spraying a little napalm from time to time, no burn pun intended.)

Thanks to this philosophy of being prepared for the worst, I've raised four thrill-seeking sons with minimal trips to the emergency room. Knock wood.

And that is why this new venture is a huge leap for me personally. There is a strong possibility I will get burned. And this time, there is no mom to put out the fire.

There is also no risk of boredom.