This is my future. Look at it. Is that a photo of a purse with faux fur on it? Yes, yes it is. HELP! Is it adorable? Yes, but that’s not the point. And the blinged-out iPhone cover? Also adorable, but also gaudy. The point is this: I’m turning into my mother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, so turning into her isn’t a bad thing. But so soon? So quickly? I figured I’d be at least late 50s before the resemblences started creeping in. Apparently not. I’ve been denying it for years, but it’s quickly becoming a realization I don’t think I can deny anymore. [to be read in a loud voice with ominous music in the background.]
THE TRANSFORMATION HAS BEGUN!
I’m turning into my mom: have more horrific words ever been uttered? Well, that and the clap but I guess since I dodged that bullet, I’m stuck with this fear. It came on gradually (the transformation into my mother, not the clap). I think both ailments may come on gradually, but the transformation into my mother didn’t involve itchiness or the urge to pee myself. Regardless, I noticed these changes slowly:
1. I utter cheesy (and sometimes inappropriate) phrases under my breath. When watching an episode of Law & Order: SVU, the opening credits indicated one of the actors was named B.D. Wong. Without even thinking, I yelled out “He B.D. Wong guy for the job!” Is that joke hilarious? Of course it is, which is why I began cracking up immediately after I said it. But then I looked around the room and saw the expressions I knew so well: the eye rolls, the moaning in irritation. I know them because that’s my standard response to my mother’s jokes that aren’t really that punny. (Ha! Punny! I’m on a roll!) Simple enough. I figured it was just one instance of bad joke-telling. If Seth McFarlane can do it, so can I.
2. I believe in conspiracy theories. That’s when I started to notice I may need to seek help. Is the government trying to take over my life by taxing me to death? Obviously, as evidenced by this year’s tax return. Does my office have a secret stash of cookies that my coworkers hide from me because they know I’d eat them if I knew about them? Probably. (But let’s face it: that’s probably a good idea on their part.)
3. I complain about the “damn kids these days.” YES, all the kids really are on drugs nowadays. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. (I blame “the MTV” and “the video games”.)
4. I hum. I knew the transformation was serious when I started humming songs loudly in public. Worst of all? I found myself trying to hum the harmony. FOR SHAME!
5. I find myself drawn to sparkly things. Things that most people (including me, 5 years ago) think are gaudy. But now, a part of me thinks: That’s kind of pretty. Look at it sparkle. For some reason, my taste in glittery things has skyrocketed and there’s no stopping it. Why would I buy a pair of plain glasses when I can get a pair with blinged-out rhinestones on the sides? I wouldn’t and I won’t.
I guess they say acceptance is the first step. I’m not sure if I’m there yet, but I suppose I’m on the road to that destination—not paying attention and sideswiping vehicles as I go. Maybe it’s not so bad. After all, my mom isn’t that far away from the senior citizen discount, and I love saving money. Plus, the sparkly tops will make it easier for people to find me when I inevitably get lost on the street looking for my car.
This article was originally published at LisaNewlin.com. Reprinted with permission from the author.