It's Only a Matter of Time

On the eve of my 29th birthday, I realized that I'm turning into my parents.

When I was a kid, it always drove me crazy that we would get blamed for stuff. You remember how that works, right? If anything's missing/misplaced, immediately the offspring are responsible for it. Miscreants, all!

I am a highly organized person. So, even at a young age, I was very offended to be accused of misplacing things. Especially when my parents' mail system, god love 'em, consisted of coming in the door and laying the day's mail on whatever flat surface happened to be at hand.

The other day, I was looking for some Neosporin to put on a small cut. I looked in the band-aid box, which is where I always keep the Neosporin, but it wasn't there. Keith had already left for work, so I couldn't ask him where it was. I went to work, disgruntled and bacteria-laden (I was sure), because it had been misplaced.

When I got home that night, I tartly inquired of Keith exactly what he'd done with the Neosporin, because it certainly wasn't in its appropriate place. He shrugged. "I haven't used it," he said.

And that's when it hit me. Because I'm usually so organized, when something's missing I automatically assume it can't be my fault. I don't do things like that.

Except, on the rare occasion, I do. But when we have kids, I absolutely know that I'll blame them whenever I can't find something. And it'll be even worse than it was with my parents, because I'll be convinced it can't be my fault. My parents always assumed it was me or my sisters, but there was a sneaking suspicion that they themselves might be responsible.

But I won't have that suspicion. I'll be 100% convinced it wasn't me. I'm turning into my parents, and taking it one step further. Don't all proud parents want their kids to succeed, and possibly even exceed their accomplishments?