Growing up, just about the angriest thing my mother could say to me was that I was JUST LIKE HER--my grandmother. She always meant that I was exhibiting some of her mother-in-law's worst qualities.
I am starting to think that, for good or ill, I am a lot like Granma Bolz. And even though that includes her faults, I don't mind.
When she passed away, she left me one of her coctail rings. It was a little loose to be a pinky ring, and too tight to wear anywhere else, so I stuck it in a drawer. But this week I had it sized to fit my middle finger. I've been wearing it and it feels like it belongs on me. I think that if she were a 40-year-old woman, we'd get along famously and understand each other.
And probably also drive my mother nuts.
Wonder Twin Powers, ACTIVATE!