Like Mother, Like Son-My Legacy Of Impatience

Not Slowing Down Makes You Miss A Lot
Learning To Slow Down Isn’t Easy

My Mom Is Patient, But I Missed That Trait

I’ve been impatient my entire life. If you listen to my mother, the last time I displayed patience was when I chose to hang out and was two weeks late in being born. She will also hasten to add that that was one particular time she wouldn’t have minded if I had showed impatience. Mom still holds a grudge. Geesh, Mom. I think she cursed me. My days were numbered and I didn’t know it.

It Could Be Worse…

It could be worse, I’ve rationalized. Being impatient isn’t as bad as some traits and it has driven me to complete goals I might not have, were I not so healthily endowed with it. I try to comfort myself with this thought often, usually after a heated battle of wits with my son, leaving both of us irritable and cranky. I sincerely hope he grows up to be a defense attorney. He’s got the closing argument down to a science. I can hear Mom laughing when I answer the cell, she’s had a blast watching me so far. Why? My son is just like me!

The Passing Of The Torch

I can’t help but recognize that the family torch has been passed on successfully and I feel a certain rueful remorse and have to grin. Once he wakes, the kiddo never stops until sleep creeps up and clobbers him. He gave the whole pie in the face routine a breath of fresh air, when he small and would inevitably doze off mid-sentence and crash land in his dinner. Not as funny then, but hilarious to me now. Why in the world is that funny, you might ask? Oh, no reason really, I just gave him the same speech my Mom gave me at his age. “I hope that when you grow up, you have a kid who is just like you!” His days are numbered and it’s just a matter of time now.


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