I've established, this week if not before, that my mom has a thing for repetition. Didn't like the answer to a question? Keep asking until you get the response you wanted; didn't quite convince your interlocutor of your point? Just keep repeating it; didn't get your daughter to apply to Google? Don't let her off the phone until she agrees to do it... and then remind her every time you talk to her.
Well, for years my mom has been telling me that I am not sexy, etc. By 'etc.', I mean variations such as, 'the way you walk is really not sexy.' It should go without saying that I have not responded to this comment by enrolling in modeling school or making any attempt whatsoever to become or walk more 'sexy.'
So this morning, almost from out of nowhere, I hear, "you're very... professional; you're not... sexy."
I say almost because in retrospect I've reconstructed my mother's train of thought-- we'd been talking about Wendy's upcoming wedding, she was probably thinking, why am I not getting married, and then realized it's because I'm apparently lacking in 'sexy.'
Mom: You're very... professional. you're not... sexy. You're intimidating-- you're not approachable...
A.: [Yawn]
Mom: You're somewhat... harsh...
A.: [Yawn]
Mom: ...you always have to be right...
A.: I'll have to disagree with you there. I know people who always have to be right. I do not always have to be right.
Mom: Well, you're somewhat... rough around the edges.
I've heard most of this a million times and it doesn't bother me. I mean, it bothers me more that my mother has taken it upon herself to counsel me on my perceived level of sexiness, than that there may be a problem with said sexiness. But even that doesn't really bother me-- I pick my battles.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment