Eventually it happens in every family. That time when the children become the parent and the parent the child. Hey! Wait a minute, I’m not ready.
I’m still several years away from even the minimum age of retirement, yet my daughter has decided it is time for me to turn over control of my life. She not only mothers her own family, but now tries to mother her mother. I am no longer the go to person when she has a problem. She solves her own problems, her husband’s, and her children’s, as well. When I have something worrying me, or an important decision to make, she tells me exactly what I should do or how I should handle the situation.
Case in point, when it was time to buy new tires for my car, she sent her husband to buy them for me. Why? I’m not senile, nor have my eyes deteriorated to the extent that I cannot read price tags.
And then there is the health advice. I should eat this, or not eat that. I should get more exercise, stop eating ice cream. Give up ice cream? Never! That advice only causes me to dig out an extra scoop.
When she advises me, I rebel. The disturbing thing is, those little acts of rebellion are very similar to how I reacted to my father’s rules.
No matter how hard I try to stop it, I can see that the tide of life is turning, and if I want to fight it, I better paddle harder! Guess I should stop eating ice cream and exercise more.