My son-in-law scared me out of 20 years growth, though, by messaging that my daughter was going in to surgery and then not calling back. After sitting around for hours (only two but honestly it seemed like twelve) getting more and more frantic, I schlepped down to St. Luke's to see for myself what the heck was going on. I was sure there was going to be some degree of awfulness when I got there; I've never been so terrified! Seriously. AND I had the grandmother of all hangovers from drinking too much Chardonnay while I was waiting up last night. (You do not want to be on the NYC subway terrified out of your wits AND hung over, take it from me. Just don't go there.)
But no, they were all just fine, just not thinking of doing PR and busy worshipping the baby. I was glad of that, and so did not shake my precious son-in-law until his teeth rattled. I'll tell you what, though, I really hope (without their incurring any actual harm) that Little Johnny scares the bejeezus out of him at some point, and then I will point and laugh and say remember when you did that to me??? Hm???