There are many ways the phrase “you’ve become your mother” can be flattering to me. Her joy de vivre for food and travel, how much energy she has for her age, and how young she’s managed to look. However, not everything about that statement is always flattering.

This morning Mom and I were talking about the wash. She mentioned she is missing a pair of underwear. The underwear probably got mixed up in my drawer. Did I have it? She wanted to know.

What did it look like? White? Hanes?

Well that’s what I’m wearing these days, due to my c-section. I need granny underwear that doesn’t cut into my scar.

And that’s when Adam turned to me and said, “I just want to go on record here that you are wearing the same underwear as your mother.”