Don't you hate it when you open your mouth and your Mother falls out?

Don't you hate it when you open your mouth and your Mother falls out?

I swore it wouldn't happen to me. There was no way I was going to grow up and be like my Mom. Not that she is a terrible person, but it just wouldn't fit the profile of my terminal uniqueness. It happened though whether I liked it or not. At some point I've been disciplining my kid and my Mom has fallen out of my mouth. Now I'm not talking about the standard Momisms like “don't make that face or else it will stick like that” or “if you friends jumped off a bridge would you do the same?”. I am speaking about conversations that My Mother and I had when I was younger about the simple little things like brushing your hair or cleaning your room. At some point I have been speaking to my child and all of a sudden my mothers voice comes out of my mouth and I have to laugh. (I can't do it when my child is around because that makes you loose all sorts of power).

I think the reason that it happens is not because I am like my mother so much, but because my kid is so much like me. (albeit a more girly version of myself). I've walked into her classroom and spotted her desk off the hop because suddenly I'm in a time warp and I’ve become a kid and I'm staring at my own desk complete with the bunched up pieces of paper and assorted randomness. How can I give her trouble for it when I KNOW that I was the same way and it's not so much of a mess but organized chaos.

Today I had to laugh when my daughter asked if she could take my boots when she got older or I was no longer using them. They were a gift from an ex girlfriend and I take loving care of them, not because of the fondness for my ex, but because they are some kick ass damn boots. I have a few pair of boots, but those ones are my favourite and she KNOWS it. I thought it was pretty ballsy of her to even ask really. I like boots because at 5'3 anything that gives me and extra inch is okay in my books. My kid has now developed an over fondness of boots. Her Gramma took her out this march break and bought her yet another pair, because in my house you can't own enough boots. If my feet were small enough I'd probably borrow them too! I wonder when she will realize how much alike we are. One day she will walk in my boots, but I hope she won't make the mistakes I have made and she better not get them dirty :D I wonder how many times she will open her mouth and my words will come out.