If the image above makes your liver quiver, you may be a McKiernan. For as long as I can remember, when my mom would call home saying she was on the way home, it was a panicked race to get the dirty dishes out of the sink, clear the kitchen table, and then sit on the couch and wait for her to arrive (of course if she had bags we would jump to help her, otherwise we would sit and leave her to do her thing for about 20 minutes). Well, correction, this is what we should have done. Most times we didn't. We would swarm her asking what's for dinner, complaining about something Spider did ("Mom he threw up in the dining room. We were too grossed out to clean it up, so can you do?"), asking her for help with homework, etc. But if we did do those few things with the sink and kitchen table, my mom was the happiest lady in the work. I never understood how having those few things done and getting like 15 minutes of down time could make anyone happy. Until college. At first it was just needing some time when I got home at the end of the day. The hardest days were Thursdays senior year. I would come home from class, work, and then rugby practice at about 9 pm. By this time my house was a buzz with people pre-gaming for McFaddens. After a few minor meltdowns, Molly knew exactly how to handle me so I didn't go completely crazy. She would hand me a beer, go back to entertaining, and I would hop in the shower and get ready. Perfect. I thought, hmm so this is what mom felt like when she got back from work.
After college was when some more of my mom's quirks started popping up. Jess learned not to speak to me while I was hovering over the sink or going on my cleaning sprees. It was just what I needed to keep me sane. It doesn't have to be spotless, but I can't have clutter.
Today, however, I have officially turned into my mother. I asked a girl in my office if we have any index cards. If you have ever met my mom, you know that she always has an index card in her back pocket with everything she needs to do for the day, week, month, etc. Today, I made a list on an index card, folded it in half, and stuck it in my back pocket. Then I said "oh. my. god."
At the end of the day, I can't think of a better person to be turning into, but still....its weird. I can't wait until I start collecting endless piles of sunglasses in my baseline model Ford Explorer.
2 comments:
I wouldn't be worried until you find yourself humming along with whatever song is on the radio, be it Oklahoma or Helter Skelter.
I laughed out loud! My job is done here.....
As you say, things could be worse; I now pepper my laptop lid with post-it notes and most dress/suit pants for women do not have back pockets!! One of you genius designers- please get on that! But..not to fear, I still have my index card in my front pocket of my handbag...just to keep me grounded.
Not only are you infected, but recall the whole 'village' getting on board when dad had such a list on Saturdays and his comrades in town would ask how they could help...usually carting kids from one practice to another...to keep the list manageable. Delegation is a skill I'm still working on, but I'm young yet.
Love,
M
Post a Comment