For years, I wondered about the psychology of moms. Could a rational human being actually prefer to get long nap versus a birthday party at a friend’s house? I particularly marveled whenever we would go to a certain family’s house that we would only visit occasionally. Every time, the parents would sit and talk for hours while we kids bounced on the trampoline, explored tree houses, and engaged in epic games of hide and seek. I simply couldn’t understand why they were happy to sit inside and do nothing.
But age brings about revelation. In fact, over the last several years, I have come to a startling conclusion.
I think I’m turning into my mother. (Love you, Mom!) Don’t believe me? Here’s a list to prove it.
I love Saturdays because I can get so much done.
I’m ecstatic when I score a great deal at the thrift store.
I’m ready to go to bed at nine o’clock.
Whenever I hear Tanya or William say, “I’m bored,” I tell them that they could always work.
I get excited about next year’s garden.
I call teenagers “kids”.
Sunday afternoon “rest times” are a pleasure instead of a pain.
I read books like “99 Ways to Make Christmas Gifts out of Recycled Newspaper” and “Housework Made Easy”.
I think it’s true. I have left the playful realm of childhood and teenager-hood (whatever) and become a genuine adult. But maybe there are a few remnants left – I would still rather bounce on a trampoline than sit inside and talk!
When was that moment when you realized that you really were an adult?
But age brings about revelation. In fact, over the last several years, I have come to a startling conclusion.
I think I’m turning into my mother. (Love you, Mom!) Don’t believe me? Here’s a list to prove it.
I love Saturdays because I can get so much done.
I’m ecstatic when I score a great deal at the thrift store.
I’m ready to go to bed at nine o’clock.
Whenever I hear Tanya or William say, “I’m bored,” I tell them that they could always work.
I get excited about next year’s garden.
I call teenagers “kids”.
Sunday afternoon “rest times” are a pleasure instead of a pain.
I read books like “99 Ways to Make Christmas Gifts out of Recycled Newspaper” and “Housework Made Easy”.
I think it’s true. I have left the playful realm of childhood and teenager-hood (whatever) and become a genuine adult. But maybe there are a few remnants left – I would still rather bounce on a trampoline than sit inside and talk!
When was that moment when you realized that you really were an adult?
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