If your mom is anything like mine, then you are probably far too familiar with the frantic phone calls and text messages that blow up your phone when you don’t answer right away. Before you even realize that you’ve missed a call, it’s too late. Heaven forbid you go the whole day without responding for whatever reason, you can safely assume that your mother has successfully summoned the National Guard and reached out to everyone she knows who could give her an answer regarding your whereabouts.

If your phone dies, or if you don’t have service somewhere, you might as well just start praying that your mom doesn’t send the Wake Forest Campus Police to come knocking on your door, because you know all too well that that can become a reality very quickly. Just like that time sophomore year when I had a concussion and decided to sleep in since I was on “brain rest.” But my mom assumed that I must have died in my sleep from a brain bleed because I had not responded to her messages by 9 AM… So I awoke to not one, not two, but FOUR Campus Police officers banging on my door in Kitchin.

Of course I do try to understand that her panic and worry are all out of love; but after a couple of these incidents since first leaving to go to college four years ago, it has sparked my curiosity as to what exactly my mother’s progression of thought must be when faced with uncertainty about the status of her only daughter.

The following is a fictional scenario that I believe adequately paints a picture of what my mom must think when I do not pick up the phone or respond to her messages in a timely manner. Shout out to my mom, so sorry for worrying you all these years!

*Texts daughter at 11:05 AM... Still no response by 11:15 AM*

Commence mother's internal thought monologue:

1. Why on Earth has she not responded by now? Aren’t millennials supposed to be glued to their phones?
2. I’ll give her a phone call. (No response).
3. Hmm, well let me just email her too, just to be thorough.
4. And Facebook message too. Wow I’m so hip, look at me using my Facebook like a pro. (Still no response by 11:30 AM)
5. This is bad. This is reallllyyyyy bad! My maternal instincts are tingling…
6. Oh God. I hope she’s okay! (Calls daughter’s cellphone 15 times, leaving increasingly panicked voicemail messages with each attempt.)
7. She must be dead.
8. Or even worse, she’s been kidnapped…
9. …probably by ISIS!
10. I’m going to text all of her friends whose numbers I got when I was at Parents’ Weekend—that I promised to only use in case of an emergency.
11. If this doesn’t count as an emergency, then I don’t know what does. (Time update: it is now noon. A whole 55 minutes after initial point of contact.)
12. That’s it. I’m getting in the car this instant and driving down to Wake Forest.
13. She needs me. I AM ON MY WAY, HONEY; DON’T WORRY!
14. Might as well call the police to get them on the case as well.
15. “Hello? Yes, please connect me to Campus Police please…”
16. Wait, wasn’t she supposed to be in Florida this weekend? Maybe she’s been eaten by a shark.
17. Or she’s been in serious car accident.
18. Or a plane crash!
19. I need to turn on the news. I’m sure it will have made national headlines by now.
20. No, that can’t be it. Let’s try to be realistic here.
21. Yep, you know what? She must be in a hostage situation.
22. Why else wouldn’t she be responding?
23. Well, maybe she’s stranded on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere with no service—both mechanical problems and no gas.
24. Or if it’s a Monday, maybe she’s had an asthma attack while babysitting and the children don’t know how to call 911 to save her!
25. For all I know she’s in the hospital in a coma.
26. Oh God PLEASE keep her safe! (Daughter calls.)
27. “ARE YOU OKAY? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!”

Now, you may be asking yourself at this point, "If you know how bad it worries your mother when you don't respond, why don't you just prevent her mini heart-attacks by just always picking up the phone or texting back immediately?" And this is a very good question, but the honest truth is that life can sometimes get in the way of a perfect stream of communication. In reality, there are a whole host of perfectly logical explanations for the delayed response. For example:

1. My phone might have died and I don’t have a charger with me.
2. I’m in the middle of a workout class.
3. I’m in an academic building that doesn’t have service. Thanks, Wake Forest.
4. I’m in class taking notes and participating.
5. I’m in the middle of a group project meeting.
6. I’m at a professor’s office hours.
7. I’m studying or writing with my phone on silent to minimize distractions.
8. I’m taking a nap- rare, yet plausible.
9. I’m tutoring students in the Writing Center.
10. I’m putting the kids who I babysit down for a nap.
11. I’m trying to sleep in on the weekend until at least 9 AM. Heaven forbid I sleep a minute later.
12. I’m at the gym.
13. I’m doing homework.
14. I’m perfectly healthy, alive, not abducted, not being held hostage, and I’m just busy.

Fortunately for both parties involved, I have improved my response time with my mother by at least tenfold over the past few years. It has taken some practice, but soon enough I was able to figure out how to communicate with enough frequency that Campus Police no longer show up at my door to check on me.

Long story short, the next time your mom or dad's name pops up on your phone, or when you hear their signature ringtone or text sound, try to think about the worry you will save them by just prioritizing a response to them before settling in on the next part of your day. Because more likely than not, the sooner you learn to practice good communication skills with the people who love you unconditionally, the sooner you will be able to transform your communication style with everyone around you, both socially and professionally.