Dear Mom

Over the last few years, I've found myself saying "well, that was my mother," in response to something I'd say or do. This has happened to me way too many times over the course of my life and I'm convinced that one day I'm just going to shrink four inches and start going by Angela.

My mom always taught us that we are fully capable of doing things ourselves. Never just give up and let someone else do it. So, the other day when some men attempted to carry a couch up the stairs to Laura's apartment, I thought I'd help. When one of them looked at me and said "now hold on, this is man's work" I held up my hand, said "no, you're done," then picked the end of the couch up that he'd dropped. I immediately looked to Laura and said "well....that was mom."

This evening I'll be taking an Omnibus trip to King's Island, so I just sat down to go through my purse and figure out what I'll need to take with me. While transferring cards into another wallet, I picked up my debit card and said "for food," and slipped it into my wallet. Next, I grabbed my license and student ID and said "in the event we get into an accident and they have to identify my body." Okaaayyy. Last, I grabbed my health insurance card, nodded my head, and put it in my purse. That, ladies and gentleman, was my mother.

These are just a couple of incidents within the last week. I can't say I mind it, though. I'm glad my mom taught me all of the things that she has and still continues to teach me things all the time. She's the greatest woman I know and I wouldn't want to be like anyone else. (except maybe Beyonce...but, like, who doesn't?)

So, if you happen to see me in the future and I've started playing computer games, drinking copious amounts of Red Bull, and talking about roses, don't worry. I'm just my mom.