Like Mother, Like Son

I just caught up on episodes of Bones last night and it was the one with Dr. Bunsen Jude the Science Dude. That name totally makes me laugh. Anyway, his signature phrase was "That's A-MA-ZING!" I totally think I'm going to use this from now on. And say it in just that way too (Uh-Maaaaaay-Zing).

Uh-hem. Anyway. Back to the topic.

As if there wasn't enough evidence that I ended up with a child "just like me," my son decides that orange is his favorite color. This, of course, requires that EVERYTHING be orange. From the floss stick he uses use at night, to the clothes he wears each day.

Recently at school they have been using bean bags and playing games with them. He asked me if we could buy some bean bags and I, being the crafty mom I am, convinced him that I could make him bean bags just as cool as any store bought ones. About 30 minutes into picking out the fabric for these bags I realize I should have kept my mouth shut. Standing there in the store, listening to my son whine, "no! It has to be JUST orange!" about to rip my hair out and lose my mind if he doesn't just PICK ONE ALREADY. I suddenly had a revelation.

I am about 6 or 7 years old. It's 1980 something and we are on our annual family get together at Kings Dominion. My grandmother has just agreed to buy my sister and I any shirt we want. While my sister picked hers out in a few minutes, I want a purple shirt. Why? Purple is my favorite color and everything I get has to be purple. So I drag my poor grandmother to, no lie, EVERY SINGLE STORE in that park until we finally found one. To this day that story is still told at family events, and my grandmother, still a bit bitter about it all.

Now, standing in front of the rows and rows of fabrics, desperate to find an all orange one before my son has a total meltdown and I die of old age; I think to myself, "this is what my parents went through." And once again I am reminded of the fact that I was cursed, oops, I mean, blessed to have a child just like me.

*Note: we eventually found an all orange fabric, tucked away behind some other ones and it was THE LAST ONE. You can bet I grabbed that thing, held on for dear life, and ran to the checkout as fast as Mason could keep up.