My Mother's Daughter

I have an announcement.

It's finally happened. The one thing I always hoped and prayed wouldn't.

This week I've found myself putting up the bathmat, spraying the shower screen with daily shower cleaner and making the bed. I even turned the radio down in the car the other day as I couldn't hear myself think. 

Not only that, I have been seriously contemplating ironing the sheets before I put them away, because after all it is quite nice getting into a bed with clean, ironed sheets.

All this amounts to is the rather disturbing fact that I have officially turned into my mother.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mother very much but I have consistently fought against her maniacal cleaning regime and party pooping ways, pretty much since I was weened of breastfeeding. I don't even like boozing much anymore (my mother turned teetotal in her late twenties.. Gulp)

I'm terrified that I have become the woman who doesn't speak to her other half for days because he didn't put the bathmat up. Hopefully however I have enough of my easy going father in me to balance out the mild insanity that runs on my maternal side of the family.

I suppose that in the end it was inevitable. But as long as I continue to drink Gin and I retain the ability to go to bed at night leaving the dishes to drip dry I think (or rather wish, hope and pray) I'll be ok.

God help The Boy if I don't.