Did you ever think that the lessons your mom force-fed you would actually stick? Did you ever think that you would pick up her mannerisms and habits? I sure as holy hell didn't, and yet...
...I have a fit when one of my roommates places a peanut butter-covered knife in the sink ("No one wants to have to wash a knife covered in peanut butter!"). DAMMIT, people! Just lick off the excess!
...I can't understand how we can fill a dishwasher with EVERY GLASS IN THE HOUSE in just a few days. Can NO ONE but me use a glass more than once?
...I mute the commercials because they are just TOO LOUD.
...I give stupid nicknames to places (Taco Bell? How about Baco Tell? Hmm? Hmm? Get it? Hmm?).
...I always say thank you, even when it's not deserved. Because it's the polite thing to do.
...I enjoy a nice glass of Chardonnay. At any time.
...I have to hold my tongue when someone closes a door, but doesn't close it quietly (in case you were wondering, this is accomplished by turning the knob, shutting the door, and soundlessly releasing the knob. If I slammed a door, she made me reopen it and close it quietly. This was SO INFURIATING. And it stuck).
Thing is? I love my mom. I used to think that turning into her would be the most horrible, most awful thing that could ever, ever happen to me.
But now? I hope that I become even half the woman she is today. It would be an honor.
Happy Birthday, Lady! I love you!
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