You know how lots of girls grow up worried that they’ll turn into their mother? I kind of expected that I would. And that seemed pretty great! She was always patient with us kids, and cooked for the family everyday, and kept the house clean, and made it seem so easy! But as an adult I realized I was decidedly NOT my mom. Nope. I’m my dad. At the end of the day I just want to retreat to a room alone and watch TV. I’m a terrible housekeeper, and, although I try hard, my kids drive me a little crazy. There are even times when they’re doing stuff that I KNOW my sisters and I did as kids and all I can think is, “HOW DID MOM PUT UP WITH US?!”
However, there are occasional times where I can see a little bit of my mom in myself. For instance, if I lose something, I follow her sage advice to clean until I find it. (Because then even if you NEVER find it, at least stuff is clean.) But what got me thinking about this is that the other day I thought, “I should have Brian put up our Christmas lights while my brother is here for Thanksgiving, so he can help!” And y’all. That is my mom right there. We used to joke about how she saved all that kind of stuff for when her sons-in-law were visiting so she could assign it to them. Anyway, I’m always amused by the quirky ways that I AM like her.