I don’t know about you, but when I was growing up there was a huge list of things my Mother said and did that I swore I would never do to my children if I ever had any.
That spitting on the tissue thing for one- bleurgh! And yes, my children (and the hubster if i can make him) will absolutely wear coats if I decide it’s cold, despite the fact it could be 90 degrees outside (note the slight exaggeration there).
I have recently begun to worry somewhat though, I’m finding that I am slowly starting to say and do more and more of these things! What has happened to me? While I can happily say I have not yet resorted to the tissue spitting (mainly, I think, due to the fact that every bag I own has a packet of babywipes in it!) it does seem that I am becoming my Mother!
Less than a week ago I found myself using that dreaded phrase “Wait until your Dad gets home!”
Not so bad, I hear you mutter, but add to that ” Look with your eyes, not your hands.” And throw in a couple of cries of “Go to your room!” for good measure et voila, meet my Mother!
So you see my concern, if this process continues I’ll be claiming I’m too old to go to concerts (although the fact that I called it a concert and not a gig probably proves that I am in fact too old for this pass time!), moaning about my dodgy knees, donning a beige cardigan, buying a tartan shopping trolley and never leaving the house after 4.30pm again!