I thought I had at least another ten years before the inevitable happened, but no such luck. Today makes it official: I am turning into my mother. In preparation for my vacation (I leave later today!), I have been doing the exact same crazy things that I used to make fun of my mother behind her back (and occasionally to her face) for doing.
The other day, I spent two hours ironing all the clothes that I'm taking, just like Mom always does. Of course, they'll just get wrinkled again in the suitcase, but my brain apparently uses Mom-logic now. I made the copious packing lists, again like her, and packed the full pharmacy of medication (just in case). I'm prepared for anything from a typhoon to dessert conditions to nuclear fallout; Mom is probably nodding her head in approval as she reads this. For sight-seeing, I packed "sensible" shoes, and I made sure to pack only nice underwear, just in case I get into a tragic accident and they have to undress me at the hospital.
Today, even scarier Mom-morphing occurred. I deep-cleaned my entire apartment, so that if anyone should happen to break in while I'm gone, they won't be able to accuse me of being a sloppy housekeeper. All dairy products have been cleaned out of the refrigerator, and the floor is freshly mopped. I'm even planning to make the bed.
Yep, I might just as well change my name to Sharon now. I am officially my mother.
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