I Have Become My Mother

It’s finally happened. Not only am I assuming her physical features and parroting her words of wisdom, I now am experiencing myself in her ridiculous situations. No, I haven’t (yet) accidentally shoplifted a tomato, but in recounting my "adventures" of late, I see a definite pattern emerging.

Take the two times in the past year I could have been arrested by the Airport Police.

Time One: After my bag passed through the ex-ray machine, I was pulled aside by a gloved woman who said that she needed to examine my bag. I was pretty sure that there was nothing in there that wasn’t supposed to be, but in my attempt to act casual I went a little too far. Because the bag was tightly packed, I remarked, without thinking, "Oh, be careful when you open it that it doesn’t explode."

The words weren’t even out of my mouth before I saw my husband react. In light of his past position as an air traffic controller, I suppose it wasn’t unreasonable that he immediately turned to me in horror and said, "Don’t you *ever* say that!" I began to apologize and to explain myself, pivoting between him and the examiner. "I didn’t mean it that way! I was just referring to the way the bag might burst open! It wasn’t even a joke! I would never say something like that!"

They both just looked at me. I suppose the woman felt sorry for me, withering as I was under Roy’s gaze. She glanced through the carry-on and waved me through.

Now you think that would be enough of a close call for me. But no...

Time Two: It was during the Scissor Alert Phase. I hadn’t thoroughly gone through my bag, but I knew that I didn’t pack any scissors. Still, once again I was pulled aside, this time by a patient older man. "Miss, did you pack your own bag"?

"Yes."

"Did you put a pair of scissors in it?"

"No."

As the above conversation was taking place, he carefully went about unzipping all of the compartments. He opened one that I never use, and darned if he didn’t pull out a pair of scissors.

Roy and the examiner just stared at me (again) and I suddenly recalled how the contraband would have come to be there. "AJ!" I shouted. My son had borrowed the case the previous season to go on a ski trip, and had apparently left behind a pair of scissors.

OK These things can happen to people, right? Or maybe just to my mother and me.

The next example is not quite up there with the day my mother accidentally chained herself to her car (she was unloading groceries from the trunk, and the dangly part of her bracelet got caught inside when she slammed it shut; unfortunately the trunk locked itself and she couldn’t reach her keys). But my experience is equal in its ridiculousness.

I was giving a talk to a large group, where I had to stand behind a podium in order to use the microphone. The podium was stuck at maximum height, unable to be re-positioned, so I needed to stand on something in order to be seen. The only step stool-like item we could find was an inverted plastic tub donated by the kitchen staff.

This worked well for the first 10 minutes of the speech, but then the thin plastic beneath my shoes began to sag and I started to sink. The podium rose in front of me, and I was losing sight of the audience. I was disappearing like Queen Elizabeth of England once did during one of her addresses, when the only part of her that remained visible was her hat.

I could hear titters from the group, so I stepped down, went around to the front of the podium and started to laugh myself. I managed to finish by speaking loudly, ending up with no voice, but at least I could maintain eye contact.

There have been other instances that I could write about, such as the time I was passing through the kitchen and decided to swipe a sip of the vanilla smoothie that Roy had just whipped up in the blender. Except that it wasn’t a vanilla smoothie -- it was dishwashing soap. I should have known that something was wrong with that picture because he hates vanilla.

MaybeI should simply get used to it. Being reminded of my mom in this way brings a smile to my face, even if it sometimes exasperates others.

I think if I’m going to become my mother, I’ll try to do her justice and get it just right.