Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

...I have become my mother, after all.

I've been fighting it for 24 years now, but yesterday it became complete. I AM my mother. You know why?

I bought Shredded Wheat. Willingly. To eat.

This probably isn't a huge deal to anyone else (but hey, it's my blog!), but you have to understand something. I grew up watching my mother wake up for six a.m. Jazzercise workouts that she would follow with a heaping bowl of (plain) Shredded Wheat. 

Gross.

To my fat kid child's mind, this was yet another mystery of adulthood. Why would anyone eat something that looked and tasted like cardboard when you could eat Reese's Puffs? Rice Krispy Treats cereal? Pop Tarts? (Mind you, this could be why I've always been overweight and my mother has...not. Is this what they call a "breakthrough"?)

Don't get me wrong. My mom has countless qualities that I would be proud to emulate. It just so happens that instead of the no-holds-barred balls of steel she has (did I mention she was in the Navy for 22 years?), I seemed to inherit the taste for cereal that tastes like wood pulp and the inability to function before my two cups of coffee every morning. 

Oh well. Guess I'll have to take this one for the team. At least I don't tell the same joke for 25 years and think it's as hilarious as the first time I said it. (Like every time we're in traffic and she shouts "It's the WACKY RACES out here", then slaps the steering wheel while shaking in silent laughter.) Hey Mom? That wasn't even funny 25 years ago.

I may have forgotten to mention I've started doing 6 a.m. workouts as well. 

But at least it's not Jazzercise...yet.