Every now and then I feel like a real parent.
And I realize how strange that may sound, having been a parent for a good ten years now, but parenthood is a way of life to me, not really a job description. It’s just what I do, and until I started subbing again recently, it was really all I did (well, that and the occasional Bejeweled streak on Facebook, but I’ve totally kicked that addiction. Honest.)
Every now and then, however, I get glimmers of the truth: I. Am. A. Parent. It happens mostly when I say things that remind me of my parents. Like the other day I said, “Don’t slam the door! What, do you think we live in a barn?!” I’ve also been known to tell the kids their faces would freeze that way, and we’re not heating the whole backyard, and this room looks like a tornado hit it, and don’t roll those eyes at me, and make sure you bring home some change.
Sometimes, the things I say are so ludicrous, they make me feel like a parent…you know, the things you never in your life thought you’d ever say, a sentence so insane, you couldn’t have predicted it. Such as
-“We do not swing from chandeliers.”
-“Get the caterpillar out of your mouth.”
-“Why would you wipe your poop on the wall?”
-“One pair of underwear at a time is plenty.”
-“How am I going to get all the vomit off this library book?”
-“Keep your hands out of your pants in church, please.”
-“We do not sleep with chocolate bunnies.”
And just last night-“Don’t wipe your nose with your underwear.”
When did I become my mother? My mom’s famous line, “Don’t eat the fruit!” caused lots of laughter (among the rest of us---she’s still not amused) over the years. We loved fruit. We’d eat the grapes or plums or apricots or whatever she bought in a day or two then we’d be fruitless until the next grocery trip. She was always trying to hide the fruit from us or warn us menacingly to stay away from it. The fruit! The good, healthy, delicious fruit! And last night someone started munching on the few grapes that were left in the bowl, and I flashed to this morning when I’d have to pack lunches with no fruit, and I actually yelled, “Don’t eat the fruit!”
Oh. My. Goodness.
Well, as long as I don’t start telling the kids, “If someday your children are half as terrible as you are, I will be happy!”
Hmmm. I wonder if my mother is smiling right now?
2 comments:
Yes, we do become our mom's don't we! The best part is that we realize it is a good thing! As always I just love reading your posts!!
I don't know about your mama, but I sure am. And probably my mama, too, now that I know she's reading and loving your blog.
I used the barn one about 4 hours ago. And I think I tell my kids to get their hands out of their pants about 50 times a day. Never at church, though. ;-) Boys.
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