“Don’t do that!” – my mom to me, like all day
I’m on vacation in New Orleans with my mom and she’s driving me crazy.
It’s been one day.
She’s just so slow … and the stories!! Why do I need to know every detail about the IT department in her company? I do not know but she somehow feels strongly that she needs to tell me.
Is it genetic, perhaps?
Her father – my grandfather – was the same way. We’d be on our way to lunch and Papa would drive us 20 minutes out of the way to show us a fence that was built by his former neighbor, regaling us with the story of its building the whole way. It drove me bananas.
And now he’s gone and I’d give anything to be trapped and carsick in the backseat listening to him talk.
So, my point is that I do realize that this time with my mom is precious. We may never do another vacation together. By this time next year I could be married, she could be married … who knows.
Like peanut butter and jelly.
So I’m find joy in the annoying moments because “annoyance” and “family” seem to go hand in hand.
I’m just grateful I have family around to annoy me.
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