The older I get, I realize there are some things about me I’ll never be able to explain or change. Like, cleaning the house, every nook and cranny, when I have a pressing deadline. Like, my incessant and uncontrollable need to talk to strangers even in New York City followed by the pride I feel when I get them to talk and the mini pat on the back I give myself when I prove to someone else that it’s possible. Like, why ice cream is the best way to celebrate a good day and forget a bad one. And then there’s my hatred of olives, mushrooms, and my overall (steadily improving) finicky nature when it comes to food in general. There’s my caretaking nature and my love of babies and old people. And, of course, that look I give that makes any man I’ve ever been with apologize upon seeing it without knowing what for.
Yep, when I think about those things among others, each passing year softens the blow of the undeniable truth that
I’m turning into my mother. And I couldn’t be
happier…
Today the donor of my baby blues is a year older.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
[liz (the brains), me (the clinically insane), mom (the one behind it all): taken last year...the last time I saw her :( ]
Hey, ma, before next year, let’s talk about the things I’d like to inherit like: your punctuality, overall organization and infectious laugh. All in due time I suppose…
Here’s to mom!
PS: I saw Kristen Dunst at dinner tonight (ok, I was told she was in the same restaurant.)
