How Un-Becoming

I love my parents. I can say that now that I'm 50+ and understand what a challenging job it can be – unless you have 8 angels underfoot like they did. Or, maybe it's because I'm becoming more like them. Or just becoming them.

There are two traveling "prizes" that go home at the end of our annual sister weekends. One says, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, I've become my mother after all." The other says, "Sometimes when I open my mouth, my dad comes out." We obviously fight over the right to take them home because these are awarded after exhibiting positive genetic behaviors. Right?

I am aware of the traits I possess from each of them. But I didn't realize there were more. Until I started seeing these Dr. Rick commercials for a certain insurance company that shall not be named. The character is trying to help these middle-aged couples from acting like their parents. In other words, how to un-become them. He offers laugh-out-loud advice like when you're going to help someone in a store ("You don't work here") or telling them "the waiter doesn't need to know your name." You get the gist.

I have not seen one yet where a woman feels compelled to tell her life story – or some snippet of it – to whomever will listen. You know, friend, neighbor, grocery clerk, perhaps mailman. Oh wait. That woman is me! And possibly my mother.

• Wal-Mart clerk (every time): And how are you doing today?
• Me (every time): Great just getting stuff for my XYZ person, place, event, thing...

That's why I do self-checkout! At their suggestion. I wonder why.

Then today when I see the mail delivery lady pull into the driveway and remember my oven heating element was set to arrive, I don a mask and meet her at the mail truck. She had a big flat box and didn't even get a chance to hand it to me before I regaled her with the interesting tale of how my oven went out while I was baking cookies and other edge-of-your-seat details from my dramatic Sunday. I know she was appreciative because I didn't have to sign for the delivery and she was out the driveway.

I waited until the end of the work day to prove I could install this thing based on viewing one YouTube video and committing it to memory. I had hubby do the heavy lifting and pull the stove out a bit so I could unplug it, but I pretty much handled the rest myself. Just to prove I could. And maybe show I'm right. Maybe like my dad (may he rest in peace).

So yes, in 15 minutes or less, I installed this beauty with absolutely no difficulties. It went exactly like Mr. Video Man said it would. And he did look like "Dr. Rick," by the way.

And there is me and my journey to become my parents. Despite best efforts. And may I apologize retroactively for making you my victims... telling you useless things on a daily basis, for crying out loud, and you didn't even ask for it.

Sorry, not sorry, but you also can't un-become a blog reader!