What’s the first memory you have of your mom?
I read an article by Lena Dunham on Lenny the other day and this was one of the questions. It made me wonder what my own first memory is of my mom.
It’s a hard question, it’s kind of like asking what’s the first day you remember living.
But when I think about it, I have one memory that keeps popping up. I was three years old and had just gotten my tonsils removed and was told I couldn’t leave the hospital until I ate something. The only thing on the menu was scrambled eggs, and I hated scrambled eggs. What a fool I was. Scrambled eggs are wonderful. But at three years old, I didn’t think so.
I remember crying because I was certain I was doomed to live in that hospital room forever.
But as soon as the nurse walked out my mom didn’t think twice about eating the eggs herself so we could get out of there and go home. I think that was probably the first time I saw my mom break a rule and I was thrilled. I can still remember watching in disbelief as she ate the gross hospital eggs, going against everything the doctor told her, and I thought to myself in that moment, oh hells yes.
Little did she know that small action would impact me for the rest of my life turning me into a person who struggles with authority and does not like being told what to do.
But at least I like scrambled eggs now.
And it’s true what everyone says, once you hit age 25 you start turning into your mother. Whether you want to or not, it happens.
Here’s a few things that have already started for me:
My desire to decorate for holidays is quickly getting out of control.
Give me ALL THE HOLIDAY DECORATIONS. There’s no such thing as too much. You hear that, Chris? I’m covering every wall/ceiling this year in lights, glitter and cereal chains.
I get way too excited about going to TJ Maxx.
I hate an unmade bed.
Before I leave for vacation the house has to be clean.
I say things like “why is every light in the house on right now?” And usually I’m only talking to Harlow.
I drive with my knee more than I drive with my hands.
Novelty napkins make me happier than they should.
I like throw pillows. A lot.
My nails always have to be painted. And if they’re not, I’m constantly talking about the fact that they’re not.
I love sending and receiving holiday cards/photos. It’s my favorite time of year for mail. If you have my address, please send me one. It makes my day.
I don’t take shit from no one.
Okay that one is a joke, I just knew it would catch my mom off guard when she’s reading this. What I mean is I can get a little feisty, and that’s all from my mom. The only difference is she does it with a smile on her face, and I do it with a snarl. I’m sure you can guess who people tend to receive better…
I think birthdays are a very big deal.
So happy happy birthday, mom!!! I hope you stop doing the millions of things you do every day and take a moment to enjoy. Don’t forget, the diet starts tomorrow.