I am my Mother!

It's official...I have turned into my mother. There is no doubt...I have proof. The house I grew up in, had a window in the kitchen, that overlooked the front porch. The window had blinds and curtains over it. But after we all moved out, I noticed that mom would tape the bottom of the curtain to the wall, in order to keep The Burglar from looking in. I thought she was being ridiculous...

But here I am...husband and oldest son are gone on a three day field trip...I'm not worried...I can handle it. I spend some time, checking and locking all the upstairs windows, as the kids are going to bed. Once they are tucked in, I do the same downstairs. As I let the dog out the back door, I see that the curtain over the door is gaping..."well that won't do," I think. I can just picture The Burglar looking in and being able to see me in the kitchen. I get the tape and start taping the curtain to the door, when I am hit with an extreme case of deja vu...."Omigosh!...that is just what mom would do! I have turned into my MOM!"

It was inevitable...my husband has been saying if for years. He sometimes calls me by her name, just to remind me of it. And it's not a bad thing...but I have to laugh at the things I seem to have inherited. It's not her high intelligence (she should have been a scientist or a doctor)...and it's not her ability to research and understand any topic...Nooo...I get her fear of spiders, her need to stay up late for fear she might miss something, and her amazing ability to fall off her shoes....Oh yes, I also got the much-coveted inability to remember which child she needs, and therefore must go through the entire list until she finds the right name...Yep! Those are the things I inherited...

After taping the curtain to the door, I figured I could use a little more protection from The Burglar and jammed a chair under the doorknob, just as my mother would do...  The Burglar has been a part of our family for a few generations now. My grandmother used to lock her door and say, "That will keep him out." "Who, Grandma?"..."The Burglar!"  (Eventually, Grandma put bars on all the windows and deadbolts that opened by key, on all the doors...and then wore the key around her neck...but that is another story...)  My mother would line up jars by the gate so that The Burglar would fall on the jars and cut himself...or maybe get a foot stuck in one. By the time my mom was the age I am now, she gave up on the jars and instead planted blackberry bushes, hoping the threat of those lethal looking thorns would keep The Burglar out. They were fine when my grandfather and my Dad were home...but left to their own devices...well, they had to protect themselves from The Burglar...

Now here I am...doing the same thing!  Of course...if it's the same burglar, I really have nothing to worry about...I mean, the guy has to be over 100 years old...what harm can he really do? Can he even reach the doorknob from his wheelchair? What's he going to do, come in and hit me with his cane? My house is not wheelchair-ready...so I doubt even if he could wheel himself up my driveway, he would never get over the thresh hold! And often, I worry about the second floor...but can this guy even think about climbing onto my roof? What's he going to do? Stand up, swing his cane and catch the rain gutter, and then propel himself onto the roof? Does he even have the muscle tone to do such a thing? I'm thinking that my burglar is decrepit and really no threat...But...on the off-chance it is his son or grandson who has taken over the family business, I will continue to lock windows, tape curtains and use chairs under the doorknob whenever the husband is gone.

With the husband and oldest son gone for three days...the little ones and I have been living it up! I haven't done laundry since they left! And I haven't had to run the dishwasher once! Perhaps it's because I haven't had to cook full meals. Last night, I let the kids do the unspeakable...they got to eat dinner on...gasp...the couch. And in front of the television. Talk about heaven. That earned me huge brownie points with those two. And to make it all the more exciting...they got to sleep in their brother's room...in his bunk-bed. Shhh...don't tell him...our names will be mud! But those two little ones, think it is the best thing ever!

They took turns on the top bunk...the boy the first night...the girl the second. Unfortunately for me, the girl dragged in a ton of stuffed animals, blankets, pillows and books, and really made herself at home up there. So when the eldest son and his dad arrived home 6 hours earlier than I expected...I had to lock them out of the house while I raced up to the room, throwing animals off the bed and into her room at breakneck speed.

I will admit, if Daddy were gone more than just three days, all fun would probably come to an end...because at some point, these kids must do their homework, get to karate and baseball, eat dinner at the table and get to sleep before 10pm! And as much as the two younger children love each other...they tend to get on each other's nerves if there is too much togetherness...and after a day of arguing and sniping at each other...and then staying up too late, I really just want a drink! But I am the only adult here. I must keep my wits about me! What if The (old and decrepit) Burglar really gets in? I can't rely on our ferocious (very old and deaf) dog to defend us. It will be me! And like my mother, I will grab the poker off the fireplace and with the two children in line behind me, we will creep around the house to make sure all is secure and no breech of our security has occurred.

Besides, I don't think I'm all that good at this safety stuff...I went to lock the front door and couldn't find  my keys...because really...if you want to be secure, maybe one should not leave their keys in the door...outside! "Come on in Burglar...Keys are in the door! Woo hoo!"