Eventually, we all turn into our parents.
The Old Woman isn't just a "glass-half empty" kind of human but more a "there's only half a glass of milk and someone, soon, is going to come drink it if I don't do something now" kind of human.
The Old Man is more a "ooh, half a glass of milk, I'm thirsty" kind of human. For years, I was thought of as being in that camp, too.
For years, the family joke was that the Old Woman must have been a very wicked child, because there are only two like the Old Man and myself, and damned if she didn't get stuck with both of us.
As I've been slow marched, unwillingly, into "adult" status, I realize I'm more and more like the Old Woman. At first, I thought I'd just married the Old Woman because Phenom shares her personality. But, as I get older, I find that I'm the one running around, trying to keep the glasses full of milk . . . and I'm lactose intolerant.
I shared this observation with a friend the other day . . . and he pointed out that a mutual friend of ours had fallen into the same trap. I asked other humans, and they all agree . . . you pretty much can't fight it . . . eventually, we all turn into our mothers. Good thing I respect and admire the Old Woman.
No comments:
Post a Comment