The prompt for today over at NaBloPoMo - Between your mother and your father, who are you more alike?
I'd like to say neither but in reality it's both. Leaving anything physical out of it - anything biological, I'd have to say Dad. I get mad the way he does. Though as a teen I butted heads most with my mom, maybe because we are similar, or because we're both strong personalities, but so is my dad. (Much strife).
Dad and I like some of the same things - funniest is that we sit and watch Bachelor or Bachelorette (even Bachelor Pad!) together and comment about the contestants choosing our favorites and singling out the bad guys. Mom walks through the living room and groans about what low lifes we are for watching such garbage, but we love it anyway, despite the groaning - and watch Dancing With The Stars because it is her show of choice even waking her up when her favorite, Derrick Hough, comes up.
I don't have my mother's height or my father's toes, but what I do have is a childhood that I am relearning about now as my son and I reside again in their house.
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