I am slowly becoming a combination of the Quackdaddy, the Quackmama and my grandma. I can feel it happening. I catch myself saying something and think, oh my goodness, that is sooo what my dad would say, or do something at home and realize it is exactly how my grandma would've done it. I start giving my kids some sort of lecture and stop mid-stream, holy smokes, that sounds like my mom! Aahhh. I swore I would never say that!
I am hoping to trade vehicles sometime this year if it works out. I had been looking at one vehicle similar to the one I have, but now I am thinking that I may just want to get a truck. Yes, we'll have two trucks, but the kids and I are hoping to score a camper this year and with the horse trailer, two trucks may come in very handy. I told Jay that I like sitting up high and having the space to put things in the back if I need to (such as a large dog)...oh my goodness, I am so my grandma. She drove a truck the last 15 years of her life practically. It was hilarious to see her barreling down the road in that truck. She just gave up her driver's license a year or so ago and had driven regularly at age 92...in a truck, sitting up high so she could see.
Last month I went with Jay to one of his ankle follow-up appointments to make sure I was getting correct information about his progress. The doctor had made a few comments about how he did this surgery so Jay would not have to wear a brace forever and so that he could run again, etc. He liked to do a good job and fix things right. And then as he was leaving he told us that, in fact, a professional baseball player was being flown in the very next day for the exact same surgery. I blurted out, "Hey, doc, tell him to call us if he needs any pointers." And immediately looked at Jay and said, "Oh my gosh, that was so my dad, wasn't it?" Yep. YIKES.
I've been running to all these ball games the past couple months and hear my dad or mom yell, and think, gosh, these people are nuts. Then I start yelling, and I realize that I am one of these people. I can't keep my mouth shut any more than they can. I've always heard my dad say, "It's not over yet, people." And just last week when we were down by 15, I was saying the very same thing!
Last week we had a chili cook-off at our church and I baked some cupcakes for it. I went to the closet to get Madolyn's super cool cupcake carrier, I opened it up and lo and behold there was a paper towel. Hhhm, what is this? Oh, yes, I put the paper towel in there to absorb any moisture leftover from the wash/dry process so it doesn't get all stinky...just like my grandma.
Last year during the Mville fair, I can't remember what mission I was on, but I was expected somewhere with something or some kind of answer to a question (ah, memories). I start walking down the midway and get stopped at every step of the way, someone needs this or that, do I know what time the event starts, someone stops me just to chat, etc. An hour later, I am back with whatever I went in search for and the people were laughing because it had taken me so long. I told them I can't go anywhere without being engaged in conversation. "Yes, we know, you're just like your dad." Oh dear, they were right. I did sound just like the Quackdaddy.
I suppose I can't fight it. They are the people that have molded me into who I am and they've turned out okay, for the most part. But when I start rinsing out Ziplock baggies and drying them to reuse, commit me.
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