SINCE I'M NOT ASLEEP YET, LISTEN TO THIS

I forgot about the funniest thing that happened today. It was right after I picked up the book for my nine year old grandson about the "Psycho Butt." It was when my daughter looked at the book, looked at me and, I would have sworn she slightly rolled her eyes. My question is...When did she become my mother?

Now, I remember to the day the day she and I were the same age...she turned 30 and I looked at her and asked, "How can we be the same age?" I think what has happened was, I'm still 30 and she got older. I must admit that my illnesses this year have made her a bit more attentive...She doesn't understand crotchety old ladies who are as stubborn as all get out...Sick, me? No, I'm fine. She doesn't do it in a condescending way, yet. She just calls more often...and has insisted on this new ritual of me spending one night a week at her house to save me the drive back and forth to work. Hey, I don't mind...she cooks, she fixes the couch up for me, there's more time with the grandson and with the price of gas...I'm making out like a champ. No, it's the little things. The tea. Tea? Herbal Tea? WTF? I drink coffee...with cream and damn the cholesterol, I'm going to die from something and it's not going to be from mellowness...And the afghan. "Do you want this afghan for your shoulders?" No, save it for the coffin. And how many times does she think I need to be told how to keep the bathroom door from slamming by making sure the rug is under it? And, why in the hell does she insist on giving me a new bar of soap every time I shower...I think it's an Oprah or Martha thing that she picked up somewhere along the way.

Now, I'm not complaining...it cracks me up. I'm beginning to feel like I should see how far this will go. I love her dearly and she is far nicer than I...for how nice is it for a mother to try and plan a way to mess with her daughter's caring ways...Let's see, what do I really want and how can I convince her it is necessary for my comfort? No, I'll just sit back and marvel at her kindness and chuckle quietly inside...and remember that when she was young she promised to push me down the biggest hill in town in a wheelchair so I could have some fun...Wait a minute? Hmm? Maybe she has her own ways of chuckling inside.