Sometimes I open my mouth and my mother comes out ..

I have been told on more than one occasion that I'm sarcastic. Often that I'm too sarcastic (as though there could be such a thing) and I have retort up my sleeve for such occasions which is if you think I'm sarcastic you should meet my mother. No, really you should because my sarcasm is but a pale imitation of hers. Every so often though I come out without something that makes my friends or other family members pause because sometimes when I open my mouth, my mother comes out. 

It's funny how people always take the words you are turning into your mother as such an insult because the reality of the matter is it's a both a good and bad thing. Obviously there are certain qualities I am perfectly happy to emulate and others not so much and on the whole I am not entirely sure how much control I have over it. It's not quite a pick and mix counter here. I think there are some habits you are not even aware you have picked up until someone else kindly points it out. Yea thanks for that. 

I have been told for years now that I am like a miniature version of my mother which should hardly be shocking given that I have half her DNA and my resemblance to my other siblings was the only thing keeping me from believing her when she jokingly said I actually belonged to the family that delivered our coal. What can I say, I was a pretty gullible child.

The other day my mum left me a pair of boots in my room. By that mean my old room in my parents house. She didn't leave them in my room in my new apartment because that would be strange. I'm a grown woman. Anyway my mum is forever doing this leaving me little gifts in my room for the next time I'm down often just small things like some extra almonds or a container of maple syrup and then this time it was a really nice pair of brown ankle boots, pretty much what I had been looking for and I realized they weren't new. They were a barely worn pair of clarks which meant She'd found them in her wardrobe and donated them to me. This did briefly make me worry that I was getting old because I'd reached a point where I appreciated my mums taste in boots, surely I'm not supposed to do that for another 10 years at least. Not the same level of worry like when I find a new grey hair or closely examine that one line on my forehead but it came pretty close.