It was dinner time at my house and I was watching my husband make strange gestures across the table.
I thought he was gesturing to me, but it turns out he was “talking” to my 18-month-old son who was sitting next to me.
Comprehension dawned a second too late as I felt a gooey spaghetti covered hand grab hold of my arm. Both father and son burst out laughing as they watched the red sauce and noodles drip off my arm onto the floor. Without a word exchanged, the two men in my life had planned and executed a practical joke with me as the victim.
It was just the start of things to come. As we fed the dogs, my husband allowed our son to help him water the dogs. Water from the hose somehow became aimed in my direction. Luckily it missed me, but one of my daughters wasn’t so lucky.
Needless to say, my son has inherited his father’s sense of humor. They make faces and don silly hats causing the females in my family to laugh until our sides hurt. It’s hard to be angry when someone is trying to make you laugh. Some of the habits my children have inherited, however, aren’t as endearing.
I never even realized I had so many bad habits until I saw my children repeating them. As my daughter concentrates on drawing, her teeth bite her bottom lip. I remember my mother doing the same thing whenever she was concentrating hard. My husband often tells me to stop biting my lip whenever I’m lost in thought. Who knew bad habits could carry on for generations?
One afternoon I found the two oldest children going through brand new magazines ripping out the pages. I couldn’t believe they were doing that! When my husband came home, I complained loudly. He told me they were just doing what I do when I read a magazine. I protested that I do NOT rip out pages. I have magazines that are several years old and are still intact.
Shortly after that conversation, I sat down to read a magazine. Fresh from my mailbox, the magazine was full of the little postcards encouraging me to do everything from renew my subscription to buy little dust collectors. As I read, I ripped out the postcards and piled them on the table beside me. Halfway through the magazine, I realized what I was doing. My husband had been right: go figure!
But my bad habits go beyond biting lips and ripping up magazines. My husband has a few bad habits too. Our four children, have managed to pick up more of our bad habits than our good ones. How does that happen?
For instance, one daughter refuses to close dresser drawers. You can always tell when she has been in a dresser because every drawer she opened is still open. While my husband doesn’t leave the dresser drawer open that wide, it is left open.
Dirty clothes hampers are meant for dirty clothes. This is a simple concept. One that is easy to understand, or so I thought. Apparently it is difficult for everyone in this house except for me. As they walk into the house after a day of school (or work) shoes get dumped off somewhere in the mud room, kitchen or living room. Socks are almost always scattered around the living room.
Do you sometimes wonder what you sound like when you are angry? Wait a day or two and I’m sure your children will enlighten you. My daughter’s seem to have my angry tone down better than I do. More than the tone of voice, they have mimicked my stance, expression and the pointy finger shake.
My oldest child has my scolding tone down pat and often tries to use it on her siblings and once in a while she gets brave enough to use it on me too.
One of my daughter’s has inherited my tendency to collect silly things like rocks. Another has inherited my intermittent cleaning skills. One enjoys sleeping in, a habit she definitely inherited from her parents. I’m still trying to trace the early bird genes one child seems to have inherited.
The oldest has definitely received my debating skills. All of them have managed to get a bit of their parents stubborn streak.
I expected my children to resemble me a bit and I hoped they would pick up a few of my good habits. I was unprepared, however, for exactly how many bad habits they would pick up in the process.
I am working to curb my “stern tone” of voice. I hope to eliminate my lip biting before I leave a scar. I am even trying to change from a night owl to an early bird with mixed success. Now if only I could convince at least one other family member that the dirty clothes hamper isn’t a figment of their imagination. It is real and it does exist. If I can do that, maybe they will search out the elusive clothes hamper instead of leaving dirty clothes wherever they happen to discard them.
And yes, that is a bad habit they picked up from their father. Like father, like son and daughters.
