All’s quiet around here…maybe

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As my children continue to grow up before my very eyes, I love seeing the different nuances and similarities they have between each other especially when compared to their parents. I used to call my hubby “El gato” (the cat) because he was so quiet on his approach. Like a cat, he could sneak up on you. Like their father…my children have exhibited some of his El gato traits…

My older sister Terri likes to tell me about a conversation she had with the boy a few years back, as he explained his standoffish behavior to her. “I’m very much my fathers child. Momma’s family and conversely your family is a bit overwhelming for me. Whereas my dad’s family is smaller and by contrast quieter, which is the perfect fit me.” Oh for sure my family is larger and by contrast louder; yet the boy has forgotten one simple element…unlike his sister, he takes after me…inheriting that loud booming…and did I mention loud? voice.

The doll on the other hand is quiet and likes things quiet as well. “Mom, do you mind? Your music is too loud!” She has informed me on more than one occasion. “Doll this is my house, I pay the bills so I can listen to my music at whatever decibel I prefer…” I replied once. Instead of turning and walking away disgusted, (as I thought she would), she instead handed me a set of headphones and in a very motherly way said, “Here, use these instead. That’s what they are used for.” I had to laugh at her tenacity; then lowered the music, thinking to myself, “Who knew the doll turned into my mother?”

Last week at her basketball practice, the coaches were trying to have her yell “OKAY BLUE” as she took the ball out of bounds. She just couldn’t get her voice to rise to an audible level. (Which shoots a hole into my overall theory that one day she’d find work as a screamer in the horror film industry). Later she said “Mom basketball is too loud for me, I’m a quiet person.” I smiled and said, “Are you sure you’re related to me?” She slunk her shoulders down, twister her head to the left and shot me a scowled look. “I know, why don’t you just pretend you’re yelling at your brother?” I offered and she replied in her now common; disgusted tone of voice, “Whatever mom”!

Indeed.

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