I just finished making a bundt cake for my son's elementary school fundraiser.  It will be delicious.  I know this because I licked the batter from the spoon when I had finished filling the pan.  I'm a batter eater.  I love batter.  And cookie dough, too.  Bring me your raw, your uncooked, your bowls teeming with salmonella.  

Years and years ago, way back when I was in elementary school, I remember an afternoon spent baking cookies at a friend's house.  I remember the horrified look that crossed over the face of my friend's mom when I popped a big wad of dough into my mouth.  

"Spit it out," she demanded.  And, because she was very tall and also the gym teacher at my school and I was used to obeying her barked commands, I did.

"It's not ready," she said.  "It's filled with bacteria.  You could get very, very sick."

I opened my eyes wide and tried not to cry.  As a child, (and truthfully as an adult) I hate to disappoint.  

Later when I returned home with a little baggy of crunchy cookies, I asked my own mom about the dough.  We always sampled.  We never talked about bacteria.  Were we going to die?

"Some people worry about that stuff," she said.  

I thought about Mom this morning when I dropped my daughter at pre-school and a fellow parent confided that he had a stash of Tamiflu.  He'd picked it up for the Avian flu, but it's still good and it'll work for Swine Flu, too.  

"Wow," I said.  "You're prepared."  I was impressed.  I'm impressed because I haven't thought about the Swine Flu too much.  This is the same Dad who thinks nothing of lighting up a smoke in the parking lot of our school.  For him, the distant threat of Swine Flu weighs heavier than cancer.  

Some people worry about that stuff.

Let's be clear.  I do worry.  The list of things that keep me awake at night is long and varied.  Of course I worry about things that may never happen.  But I try to remember that while sometimes a noise in the dark is a serial killer, more often it's just a noise in the dark.