I'm Taking It as a Compliment
Last night after dinner, I ended up sitting around the table chatting with my two older girls. (I love that they're old enough for that!)
Their dad walked in and stopped. "Girl talk, huh?"
"Something like that," I said, enjoying myself.
Actually, we weren't talking girl stuff. (Fortunately! They're a little young for that stuff. I hope "girl talk" is a few years off yet.)
We got into talking about a series of books, and they were asking me something about the topic of the series, so I explained quite a bit about it. Suddenly my 10-year-old grunted.
With a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head she said, "I swear, Mom, you know everything. Or if you don't know something, you go look it up."
I grinned and said, "And you know where I got that from? The part about looking stuff up?"
They both knew and answered in unison. "From Grandma."
"And that was before Google existed."
They mock-gasped at that and began making jokes about my growing up in prehistoric times.
But the reality is that I grew up with a mother who taught me to find out about something if I didn't know it.
If one of us kids asked a question at dinner and she or Dad didn't know the answer, she'd literally hop up from her chair, race downstairs to the encyclopedia (remember those things?) and come back ten minutes later with five cross-referenced volumes.
Then she'd read all the entries aloud as we ate. When she was satisfied that we all knew the answer to the question whoever had posed, she'd close the books with a nod, stack them up, and return to her now-cold dinner.
This was not an unusual event.
At one point, we suggested getting a bookshelf of reference books installed in the kitchen.
Is it any wonder that people regularly assumed my mother had several doctorate degrees?
My daughter may have been rolling her eyes and joking around, but she couldn't have given me a higher compliment than to compare me to my mother.
(Four days. Not that I'm counting.)