December Writing Challenge: Day 11

Day 11: How are you like your mother? And if you are a mother, how is/are your kid(s) like you?

Well, I guess I get to skip half of this writing prompt, seeing as how I’m very much not a mother. I can easily say that there’s been a lot of thought placed into this very question, though, because I find it amusing the way my brother and I have grown up showing various characteristics of our parents. Instead of focusing on how I’m solely like my mother, I think I’ll show both sides between both my brother and me.

First, my brother and I are really complete opposites, but we both share qualities from both of the ‘rents. My dad has always been known to have a very laid back personality, and it’s almost impossible to make him angry. You’ll always know when you’ve reached this target, though, because his temper is like an angry bear that you’ve made the mistake of pissing off. I share this personality with my dad. I feel like I’m a very laid back kind of guy, and I don’t really get upset that often. When I do, I fly off the hinges though, and it takes a while for me to calm down. My mother, on the other hand, has a very fiery personality. She’s quick to anger and difficult to appease once she’s pissed, which is a quality she most definitely shares with my brother.

From my mom, I’ve acquired a love for books and a love for cooking (and also quite possibly, a love for tv shows.). I can spend hours in the kitchen baking and cooking (my mom leans more toward the baking side of things and gets agitated with cooking dinner sometimes. Hey, when you’re feeding a house of five every night, it’s a logical reaction). Both of us also enjoy our books. There are a few series that we have in common, but for the most part she’s a romance guru and I’m a fantasy nut. When it comes to my brother, he shares my dad’s love for hunting and fishing. Don’t get me wrong. I love being outdoors, which leads me to quite the funny story.

One year I begged and begged dad to let me go on their hunting trip with them. Finally, he agreed, knowing very well that I was only interested in the camping aspect of the trip. The morning after we got to our camping site, we went into the forest (me with a book in tow) and sat down beside a couple large trees to wait for the hunt. I ended up so entranced by the book I was reading that I barely noticed the gunshot right beside me. I turned to him and asked “Was that you?” to which he replied, “Yeah, Josh. That was me.”

My parents still get a kick out of that day in the forest. To this day, though, I have no idea what book I was reading. Only that it was much better than sitting around waiting for my dad to shoot Bambi with a rifle.

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