The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

From the moment our children are born, we have high hopes for them. Some want their kids to be just like them, others hope that their children will be nothing like them, and then some of us fall right in the middle: hoping they inherit the good, and are smart enough to ditch the bad.

For anyone who has met my kid, live and in person, you know that, not only does she look just like me, her mannerisms and her genuine talent for saying the most sarcastically inappropriate things at all the wrong moments are indeed, true to her genetic makeup. And although I wish she would temper the sarcasm at times, I can think of worse things she could have inherited.

For example, my Type A personality. A trait that I have only recently learned to embrace and somewhat control, I spend my days wishing I could be just a bit more laid back - just not as laid back as the boy. Unfortunately, I'm afraid she might be Type A.

The first indication was the other day when we were at Staples. She almost had a meltdown because I would not buy her a whiteboard. Initially, I thought she only wanted it to draw on and I assured her that she had plenty of art supplies on hand to draw with. But then she said "I need it for my schedule, so I know where I'm supposed to be!" It was at that moment that I began to suspect that the Type A demons were knocking on her frontal lobe. So, I bought the whiteboard, because I knew the level of anxiety that not knowing your schedule can bring on.

The next morning, I saw this and I knew that the demons had indeed landed. Pretty soon, she'll be obsessive compulsive about the spelling too.