90 Percent Inspiration
My daughters are adults now – thank heavens. I don’t mean they have turned eighteen; I mean adult -adults. They are of an age that I discourage them from calling me “Mom” in public. My youngest is a school teacher, for crying out loud. I cannot express the relief I feel in no longer having to portray some sort of idealized, Cleaverized version of motherhood, and we can just relate to one another as people. They actually seek out the wisdom of my experience rather than being offended if I offer it, and I even find myself asking their opinion on different topics to learn what is currently hip. (I am now being told that using the word “hip” is not hip.) Occasionally, we even have a bit of role reversal, such as when we went to Universal Orlando and I wanted to buy these magic tricks. My daughters tried to talk me out of it. “You know, you will only play with them a few times and get bored and never touch them again.” I whined until they gave in and let me buy them, but of course they we...