“Put on a sweater!”
“Don’t eat that!”
“Dry your hair before you go outside!”
“Don’t you talk back to me!”
“Wait till I call your father!”
“Pick up this mess!”
“You’re not going out dressed like that are you?”
Just another morning encounter with my well-meaning Mama.
I so enjoy these moments together.
In fact, some people like breakfast with their coffee. I prefer to start my day with some good old fashioned criticism and Polish folklore.
If I’ve been told once, I’ve been told a quadrillion times to suck in my stomach and microwave that cold cereal before it causes my body to implode on itself.
Good thing I have her to remind me that at 32 years of age, I’m nowhere near being able to make my own decisions, and that being a self-sufficient adult will always be but an illusion.
Otherwise, who knows? I might end up doing something crazy, like tempting fate and walking out the front door with my hair soaking wet.
I Love you Mama.
Thanks for the fear-based parenting style that I am now so proudly and naturally passing down to my own two terrified, manipulated, co-dependent children.
Being a Mom with emotional baggage rocks.
It’s the gift that keeps on giving.