mothers and daughters

My mom has often compared me to Penelope on Criminal Minds. I’m not sure if it’s because the character is always wearing bold colors, cool glasses, does funky stuff with her hair, or is curvy. (yes, CURVY. *koff*) Or maybe it’s a combination of all. Who knows.

But the funny thing about our relationship is the one thing that mom recognizes in me as a core part of ME is the one thing she wishes she could change. And seriously, if I haven’t changed by now, I ain’t gonna.
These past few days I’ve depended on her a lot more than usual because I’ve been helplessly stranded while my car is being worked on. (Thank you, Earl the Mechanic, for the good deeds you are bestowing upon my BlueBelle.) I won’t have BlueBelle back until Thursday, so Mom has volunteered to be my chauffeur. The first couple of days we were stranded by snow. (Actually, I could have gone to work on Tuesday, but Mom wouldn’t give me permission. <–not kidding.)

Enter Wednesday morning.

I open the door to the car.

Mom: THAT’S what you’re wearing today?

Me: No. I have on a whole ‘nother outfit underneath. This is my red
herring outfit.

Mom: Don’t you have some different pants? (the horrid pants in question are black crop cargo pants that meet the top of my black boots.)

Me: Yes. They’re underneath the red herring pants.

Due to the snow, it takes Mom a little longer to drive me to work than usual. Part of this is because she slams on her brakes at various times. And part of it is because she’d rather bitch about the way the other drivers drive instead of actually driving her car. Now because we have an extended time together and there is no way for me to escape (aside from throwing myself out of the car and off the overpass…which I did consider momentarily) Mom uses this time to offer me more advice on my appearance.

Mom: We really need to talk about your hair.

Me: Oh?

Mom: Yes. You know you look like a cartoon, right?

Me: Yes! Thanks! I was going for Jessica Rabbit. How’d I do?

Mom: It’s the wrong color.

Me: Oh? More orange, less red?

Now don’t get me wrong, I love my momma with all my heart. These exchanges serve purely as entertainment. But sometimes, just one turn of phrase or comment in the right tone of voice can make me feel like I’m 12 years old again. How does she do that?

The good news is, I’ve completely reworked my entire wardrobe and am now sporting velour jogging suits, sweaters with puppies, kittens, and rainbows on them, pleated khakis, and SAS Shoes. Thanks Mom!

Okay, so most of you are adults (at least in age)…does your mom still do this to you?

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