"Why is my first thought always that he got eaten by the cat?"

So, you are prone to catastrophizing.

Okie dokie.

So, thousands of dollars and decades of therapy were not able to rid you of the habit.

Okie dokie.

So, your angel, your firstborn, the child who you hang on her every single word, is going to Romania for three weeks on tour with a choir of gazillions of people.

After all of the "ooh, isn't that going to be amazing" supportive crap you have to say to make it okay for the kiddo, then you settle in to this panicked internal nutsness that can only be described thusly:

It will all be fine when she returns.  Until then, I will strive NOT to read or post airline safety statistics, sex-slave abduction stories, pick pocket gypsy videos, or "Americans are hated abroad" stories, or even ruminate on how often she trips and falls and how wonderful the medical care might or might not be in Romania.

Life in my head.  What a marvelously unpleasant adventure.  Like, all the time.

Bon voyage Firstborn.  Enjoy the paprika.  Don't stray from the group.  Don't drink the water.  Be sure your will is up to date.  Wait.  Let's just leave it at GodSpeed and I loves you.

ps---the title quote above is from the last few seconds of http://youtu.be/Vp2nb9Vq0yY