You know, it's interesting... when you get to be my age (almost-but-not-quite 37 yrs old), you begin to notice yourself exhibiting certain characteristics of your parents, both physical and behavioral. For instance...

I went to City Hall yesterday to pay my mother's car taxes. In front of me in line was a woman and her two young sons. The littlest one was about 4 or 5 years old, cute as a bug and completely obnoxious. The Tax Collector's office was the last place in the world he wanted to be; he decided that a tantrum would get him what he wanted and so he started to yell at the top of his lungs, "I'm hungry! I'm hungry! I'm hungry! I'm hungry! I'm hungry!" nonstop while running in circles around his mother's legs. I stood there, watching him, waiting for him to feel my eyes boring into the top of his little head. He finally peered up at me over his little wrap-around sunglasses. The look in his eye said it all : "Are you on to me, Lady?" He was daring me to say something. Instead of smiling at him in a sweet, maternal manner and trying to engage him in coversation as a diversionary tactic, I found myself shooting this kid a look that Medusa would have envied. He stopped dead in his tracks, trying to gauge what threat I posed, if any. I was this close to leaning over and telling him to "Knock it off, right now" when he decided his chances for success were much better if he stayed in front of his mother and out of range of the daggers that were shooting out of my eyes. He quieted down shortly thereafter, but that's not the point of this story. The point is, that is exactly what my father would have done. Except he wouldn't have stopped at just the look - he would have leaned down and whispered those words in the kid's ear, nearby parent be damned. My only solace in this is knowing that I have a good 20 years before I get to that point.

I won't even get into what if feels like to look at my hands and see my mother's.