As a Christmas gift this past year, I was presented with a set of "The Waltons" DVDs by my youngest son. He couldn't have gotten a gift I enjoyed more. I sat for the next week of Christmas vacation watching and reminiscing. Wow ! That extended family really got along well! At least on the outside.

Didn't they have stressors? Remember, they were smack in the middle of the Great Depression. John Boy was deciding on a college. Olivia had a miscarriage. Grandpa and Grandma had a rift and wouldn't speak to one another, especially after Grandpa went on a joy ride with the Baldwin ladies. Mary Ellen continued to smart-mouth everyone in sight. A dear childhood friend of Jason's was diagnosed with leukemia. I could go on and on......

My point is, they continued to function as a family unit while staying calm and cool. Without Dr. Phil. Without gorging on "comfort foods". Without an outside support group. Without mind-altering drugs. (well, maybe a shot of the Recipe now and then).

I am wondering...if this sweet little mountain family could maintain their sanity in the midst of 1930's turmoil, what is the matter with me?

Some background information might be helpful. I am the mother of three wonderful sons, ages 32, 27, and 19.

Yes, their father and I tried for a daughter, but it became abundantly clear by and by that we were headed in the direction of an all-male football team. That's a lot of Gatorade.

I am certain that God in His infinite wisdom, saw fit to bless me with those three wonderful young men. And I got an unexpected bonus: those boys were born knowing everything! One less stressor, right? Right?

No clearer can the "I know everything" syndrome be seen than through the trials of everyday living. As a mom, I firmly believe that it is best to step aside and allow my children (middle and youngest sons) to savor the fruits of their labors, although sometimes that fruit turns out to be of the "organic" variety, if you get my drift.

The following two scenarios, I'm sure, are just samplings of the events that the Man Upstairs has designed as a "heads up" for those who will learn. For security purposes, names have been changed.

MR. CLEAN--"Don't do my laundry," the older of the two said to me the other day. You don't do it right."

"What's the big secret?" I asked. You put the clothes into the washer AFTER you sort them and treat stains. Add the proper amount of detergent and turn the water on."

"That's just the problem," he replied. "You have to place them in there right. The washer needs to fill first, THEN you add the detergent. Last of all, you add the clothes."

"We are talking about towels, for Heaven's sake," I said through clenched teeth.

"Right, the ones I had to REWASH because you washed them wrong the first time...and you used your GENERIC fabric softener sheets....no wonder they smell so bad..STAY OUT of my laundry!"

It briefly crossed my mind that Olivia Walton would have handed him a bar of lye soap and shown him the direction of the iron pot. However, being devoid of those implements of yesteryear, I simply stuck my tongue out and hid his softener.