My mother, looking at my hair once again.
Mom: You need to cut your hair.
Me: (Silent. I roll my eyes.)
Cruising the aisles of ShopRite.
Mom: Should we get Regular or French Vanilla? Hazelnut?
Me: What do you usually get?
Mom: French Vanilla.
Me: Oh. Did you want to try something new?
Mom: Yeah. But -
Me: What?
Mom: It's risky.
Me: (Sigh.)
Do you have to have Coffeemate creamer?
Mom: Oh yeah.
Me: I usually just buy half-and-half - store brand is fine.
Mom: Oh no - I have to have Coffeemate.
Me: Ok.
While I organize and unpack my boxes of clothes
Mom: You need to stop dressing like you did in high school. And you're not in college. You're not in your early 20s anymore.
Me: (silently, in my head) Thanks, Omma. Really. Thank. You.
While debating which scarf to bring to Prague
Mom: Why don't you start dressing more ladylike? So you can get married.
Me: Ugggghhh. Yep. Because that's the ONLY thing I've been doing intentionally, the only roadblock to marriage: dressing more ladylike. Ladies' Home Journal circa 1955, are you listening?
