Yep, That One is Mine

When my oldest was born it was evident from the first minute that he was Raymond's child. He had Raymond's coloring, hair color, and quiet way - you could barely hear his cries. When Raymond would go to the hospital nursery to get the oldest even nurses that had not met Raymond knew which baby to pick up out of the crib before checking name tags. It was the talk of the maternity ward.

We knew within months that he had Raymond's engineering mind and love of learning.

When the youngest was born it was very evident he was mine. Same coloring, loud, into everything, mean (Raymond told everyone he married me because I was mean.), and stubborn.

We knew within months that he was going to be very hard to live with, just like I am.

As the oldest has grown we have seen more and more ways that he is like his father. When we were on vacation I actually yelled at him because he was doing something that irritated me in the same way Raymond would irritate me when he would do the same thing. I wanted to know why the oldest had to have all his father's traits.

Of course, the youngest is becoming more and more like me. In fact, after the other day we agreed that it probably a good thing he is moving away from me for a while. He said something that was so me that it startled him, and yet we were laughing so hard I thought I would have to pull off the road.

We were on our way to run a couple of errands and as I was stopped at a red light I became fascinated by the hair style of the man in the car behind me and I wanted the youngest to see it, but before he could sneak a peak the light turned green. As I drove through the green light a horn honked next to me and when the youngest looked it was a friend of the family. The youngest waved and we kept driving on, with the youngest still wanting to see the rear view mirror guy's hair. That is when he said it.

The youngest said "I really would like for the next light to be red to see that guy, but then again we would have to roll down the window and say "hi" to _______." Then he looked at me and said "I have to get away from you. That is so what you would say."

Well, I lost it, because that is what I would say. He knew that is what I would say because all his life he has watched me not turn down certain grocery aisles to avoid running into acquaintances, and sometimes friends. Just last night he saw me try to gauge whether or not a woman from the church had seen me walk into a store as she was checking out by the door so I would know if I needed to speak or not.

Now there are some people that I will always speak to if I see them out in public, but that is a short list. I am the first to admit that I am extremely fortunate to have so many wonderful friends and acquaintances in my life, but there are times I do not want to be social. Shopping is one of those times.

I hate to shop. When I go shopping I go with a purpose and I want to get in and out so I can spend my time doing something else I enjoy more. Even when I go to a quilt shop it is with a need and I will not spend any time admiring the fabrics until I have discovered whether or not I can fulfill that need within that shop.

I am not saying I don't enjoy walking around in Target and looking at different items, but when I do that, I want to be alone, and I will still avoid people unless I am feeling really sociable.

So now the youngest has truly been branded by me, and has my anti-social attitude. However, I am encouraged because when we were out last night he did wave back to a girl that waved to him in the store, even if he did complain in the car on the way home that he ran into her three times and it was getting awkward.

Yep, that one is mine.