I was sweating bullets as I dished out food at the New Orleans shelter I volunteered for. My mom, Maria Menzer, was supposed to pick me up, but knowing her, I was not getting my hopes up. She had said something about her needing something at the store and I was supposed to get it for her. Since there were many parades and events going on, I should have known to be careful.
My mom finally showed up yelling, "Get your stuff in the car! Hurry up I'm late for work and I still have to drop you off at the store!"
She had made it sound like this was a life-threatening situation, even though s…