We share a lot of similarities—we're short, we write, we aren't afraid to speak in front of a crowd—but it wasn't until today that I actually morphed into my mother.
It happened this evening. I'd say around 10ish.
I walked into the loft area where Mark was watching Lion Server training videos on the Mac Mini TV. He was all spread out—books over here, cords over there, a MacBook Pro on his lap and another on the ottoman.
I walked in from my office and said, I wanna move the couch over here and the chair over there. You mind getting up for a sec so I can do it right now?
He looked at me dazed and got out of the way.
I heaved the couch and shoved the chair and slid the ottoman and jerked the room divider across the carpet. I placed the couch and stepped back. And then I knocked it with my knee to slide it to the left a few inches. I stepped back, slid it again, stepped back, and did like that over and over while Mark held his computers and watched his little wife rearrange a room.
He watched while I went into our bedroom to steal a foyer table.
And he heard me when I said, Well, now I've done it. I've become my mom.
How's that? he asked.
I just put my first dent in the wall while sporadically moving furniture without male assistance. And I wasn't freaking out about it.
The transition was quick and it didn't feel weird at all.
And without warning I feel quite able to refinish tables, cook for 20, and grow my own food. (Able but unwilling. Let's be quite clear on that.)
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3 comments:
My morph into my mother has less to do with wall dents and furniture rearranging and more to do with wearing leggings as pants and watching Jersey Shore. Luckily, I've avoided the Jersey Shore part up to this point. Heaven help me.
This is indeed a very sad development for the walls of your home and the sanity of your husband. At least Mark didn't find you at the bottom of the stairs under a bookcase...
I'm thinking the combined dose of genes from having you and Lauren under the same roof channeled my furniture moving energy, and eventaully overwhelmed you.
You need to fight this, or eventually you will start refinishing furniture, repurposing items, shopping at thrift stores, and naming inanimate object.
We can only hope you get a handle on this before it's too late.
Oh, and I am sorry. We turn into our mothers and it's seldom a good thing. :)
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