It’s precisely what most women dread, this thing about becoming just like our mothers. It starts at about age 14 and keeps going, getting more and more dreaded and dreadful as the years pass, until finally it becomes okay at just about age… never.
We all want to be a “better” version of a woman than what we have had presented to us by our mother, to improve upon her life, not make the mistakes she made, not have the same outcome. Because that’s how we are. We live under the illusion that we are faster, smarter, savvier, and we forget that in the end the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
So yesterday I did something that my mother would have done.
I was at the grocery store, trying to check things off the list in my head because I had forgotten my list at home (typical), when I ran into a classmate of my mother’s. We chatted for a few moments and then went our separate ways, and as I was in the checkout line, in the back of my brain I was still turning the conversation over in my head. Where, you know, the grocery list in my head had formerly resided.
And then I proceeded to write a check for my groceries over and above the total figure.
When the cashier handed me $40 cash I came back to the here and now. Wha–?
“You wrote the check for more than the total. I thought you wanted cash back.”
I stuffed the money into my purse and went on my merry way. Clearly, I was not in the here and now.
So I’m $40 richer (sort of) and very much in fear that I am losing it. And just like my mother.
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