LIFE, ACCORDING TO BLAKE
Me: (showing Blake a picture of me around his age) What do you think of this picture?
Blake: Um… why do I look like a girl?
Me: That’s me, silly.
Blake: (hopelessly confused) Huh?
Me: (showing a picture of him next to mine)
Blake: Ohhhhhhhh! Wait… huh?

“I hope you have a child JUST LIKE YOU!”  Has your mother ever said that to you?  And I don’t mean as a compliment, either.  (“You are so sweet and well-behaved, I hope you are blessed with a parenting experience that is just as easy as what I have with you.”)  Nope.  I mean they are so angry the only punishment that keeps them from killing you is the thought of you to dealing with the same exact situation with your own child(ren).  Yup, my mom has said it to me.  Possibly numerous times, but I’ve blocked it out.

Now, I direct your attention to the photo of Blake and I at around the same age… you’d think my mom had a dedicated phone line to God himself during Blake’s fabrication phase.  (“Heavenly Father, may I make a request?  PLEASE make sure Heather is looking into her VERY. OWN. EYES.”)  Judging from appearances alone, I think it’s safe to say that my mother’s request was not only noted, it became the very blueprint from which Blake was designed.  We tend to have the same facial expressions, too, which is creepy.  There’s nothing like turning around to admonish your child only to have your very own face staring back at you.  It literally makes me jump at times.  (It’s equally as frightening when I open my mouth and my mother’s voice comes out!!!  I swore that would NEVER happen…)

Sadly, the similarities are not limited to a love of dancing, singing, laughing and meeting new people.  Nuh-uh.  That would be too easy and would defy my mother’s wishes for me to have a child just as wonderful as I was.  Go figure.

A charming attribute my mother is pleased that Blake inherited is the tendency to verbalize his observations.  In public.  And at about 120 decibels.  Apparently, I was the queen of this as a young child and thought nothing of sharing them with those around me.  Especially with the person to whom the observation pertains.  Apparently my cuteness would disarm my prey and then quickly vanish when I opened my mouth… “Hey wady, you reawy should bwush your hair before you weave your house.”  Lucky me that I have a son who doesn’t miss a thing or the opportunity to ask about it.  Or ask his prey about it directly.  He’s lucky he’s so cute.

So, yes, folks my mom got her wish.  The perfect punishment she waited years for has come to fruition.  I have been cursed with blessed with a mini-me.  ;o)

LIFE LESSON:  Don’t piss your off your mother.