Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Tree, Apple, Part the First
So we're at my mom's to celebrate her 70th birthday, which actually happened in February, but traveling to Colorado in February is not the smartest thing to do unless you don't mind flight delays. Flight delays are bad enough when you have all the time in the world, but when you have only limited vacation time because you are now working for The Man and those limited vacation days must be carefully allocated to the most important events, a flight delay becomes almost unbearable, because all you can think is, "I get hardly any vacation and I am WASTING IT in an airport!"
So we're all here: my brother, my sister, my sister's fiance, whom we shall call "M." I don't remember what I called him last year when we first met him, but if you have a better memory than I and are thinking, "But CF's sister's fiance is called DYLAN! Did she break up with Dylan and pick up with someone new? WHAT HAPPENED?" you don't need to worry. M is the same fiance from before. It's just that I am too lazy to review my archives to see what I called him.
So we're here: siblings, mom, M, SH.
And SH is getting a real kick out of comparing me to my mom.
Which is annoying, not because there is anything wrong with being like my mom - she is a lovely person who does interesting things. She is nice. She is generous. She is an amazing cook and is about the most organized person I have ever met.
She does not treat me badly. She does not gossip about me to my siblings or about my siblings to me. There are no sighs of, "Your sister is such a disappointment to me. " There are no complaints of, "When are you going to visit again?" There are no angry emails telling me I am a Bad Daughter.
I am very lucky to have my mom. She's a good mom.
But I am my own person!
Only I'm not.
We were at the restaurant. My mom and I were in the ladies. Found the table where everyone else was waiting. One side of the table faced a huge window with the sun shining in, the other faced a small window to the other, shady direction.
I pulled out the chair next to SH.
"Is this going to be OK with you, sweetie?" he asked. "There might be too much glare."
"No, it's fine," I said.
Two seconds later, my mom walked up. My sister motioned to the chair next to her, which was across from me. "Sit here, Mom," she said.
My mom shook her head. "Oh, no," she said. "There's way too much glare on that side.
SH started laughing. "You are EXACTLY like your mom!" he said.
I rolled my eyes.