Not to be cliche...
But they always say, "when you grow up, you become your parents." And I think everyone snickers at that thought when they're younger. Especially when you're a teenager and you'd rather grow tentacles than act like your parents.
The older you get though, the more it becomes true. At least it is for me. If I step back and take a look at it...I am becoming my father in many ways. And honestly, anyone who knows me well, or has seen me grow up would probably agree with me.
I guess I'm thinking about this a bit more because of what happened tonight. I was expecting a rather dull Friday evening. The weekly grocery shopping was done, dinner had long been in my belly, and with Amy heading off to bed, I was anticipating an exciting evening of random websurfing, playing a little of the Sims 2 and perhaps continuing to add some of my CDs to my iPod (which at this point, I think I'll get all my music on it by the time I'm 35. But I digress).
At around 10, my mom calls me: my dad went shopping and his car won't start in the parking lot. She had been trying to call a tow truck for him (as neither of my parents have cell phones. I finally convinced them to get an answering machine about 8 years ago), and couldn't find someone to tow his car, it being the Friday before St Patrick's Day and all. My brother lives closer, but he is currently driving through the snowstorm out east to get to some concert in Pennsylvania somewhere (oh for the days when I thought I had disposable income!). So in any case, seeing I was still awake and not really doing anything, I went to go pick him up.
The situation itself was a little strange. Several times over the years my dad has picked my ass up due to various car issues. The best was the time I locked my keys in my car, with the motor on, radio blaring in the O'Hare Airport parking garage at 1am when I was in my early twenties. But anyWAY, it was a tad of a role reversal. And really for one of the few times in my life I felt like an adult around my dad. It's difficult for myself to feel like that usually because, I don't know, it's kinda hard to explain. My dad doesn't treat me like a child by any means, it's just we always assume these father-daughter roles when we're together - probably due to the fact we're not super close and as is customary in my family we don't talk about feelings or any thing of true importance.
So in the car ride back to my parents' house we had some lively conversation. Touching on how silly my brother is right now, and mostly about the wonders and troubles of the public transit system in Chicago. I remember as a kid how my dad had a fascination with the street cars of his youth, and how he always knew the bus and train routes. I thought it was rather a boring hobby, until I caught myself doing the same things in the last couple years. I'm intrigued by the old el cars I took as a kid, and the train stations that no longer exist or have changed so greatly in the last 25 years or so. It's not something I consciously got into - it just sort of happened.
But I guess what really made me think about this was what my dad did as I was leaving the house to go back home. He thanked me for picking him up - which isn't unusual except for the way he said it. He said it rather sheepishly, almost quiet, and I know this is the exact tone I take when I thank someone for doing something for me I didn't expect or request.
So, I guess I am becoming like my parents. And I really am an adult. And for once I'm pretty ok with that.
Kinda deep thoughts for me this late. I promise the next post will be something frivolous like about a CD I bought or the damn light in this room that keeps flickering ;)
The older you get though, the more it becomes true. At least it is for me. If I step back and take a look at it...I am becoming my father in many ways. And honestly, anyone who knows me well, or has seen me grow up would probably agree with me.
I guess I'm thinking about this a bit more because of what happened tonight. I was expecting a rather dull Friday evening. The weekly grocery shopping was done, dinner had long been in my belly, and with Amy heading off to bed, I was anticipating an exciting evening of random websurfing, playing a little of the Sims 2 and perhaps continuing to add some of my CDs to my iPod (which at this point, I think I'll get all my music on it by the time I'm 35. But I digress).
At around 10, my mom calls me: my dad went shopping and his car won't start in the parking lot. She had been trying to call a tow truck for him (as neither of my parents have cell phones. I finally convinced them to get an answering machine about 8 years ago), and couldn't find someone to tow his car, it being the Friday before St Patrick's Day and all. My brother lives closer, but he is currently driving through the snowstorm out east to get to some concert in Pennsylvania somewhere (oh for the days when I thought I had disposable income!). So in any case, seeing I was still awake and not really doing anything, I went to go pick him up.
The situation itself was a little strange. Several times over the years my dad has picked my ass up due to various car issues. The best was the time I locked my keys in my car, with the motor on, radio blaring in the O'Hare Airport parking garage at 1am when I was in my early twenties. But anyWAY, it was a tad of a role reversal. And really for one of the few times in my life I felt like an adult around my dad. It's difficult for myself to feel like that usually because, I don't know, it's kinda hard to explain. My dad doesn't treat me like a child by any means, it's just we always assume these father-daughter roles when we're together - probably due to the fact we're not super close and as is customary in my family we don't talk about feelings or any thing of true importance.
So in the car ride back to my parents' house we had some lively conversation. Touching on how silly my brother is right now, and mostly about the wonders and troubles of the public transit system in Chicago. I remember as a kid how my dad had a fascination with the street cars of his youth, and how he always knew the bus and train routes. I thought it was rather a boring hobby, until I caught myself doing the same things in the last couple years. I'm intrigued by the old el cars I took as a kid, and the train stations that no longer exist or have changed so greatly in the last 25 years or so. It's not something I consciously got into - it just sort of happened.
But I guess what really made me think about this was what my dad did as I was leaving the house to go back home. He thanked me for picking him up - which isn't unusual except for the way he said it. He said it rather sheepishly, almost quiet, and I know this is the exact tone I take when I thank someone for doing something for me I didn't expect or request.
So, I guess I am becoming like my parents. And I really am an adult. And for once I'm pretty ok with that.
Kinda deep thoughts for me this late. I promise the next post will be something frivolous like about a CD I bought or the damn light in this room that keeps flickering ;)