Mirror, Mirror…

It recently came to my attention that I have changed. It’s every teenage girl’s worst nightmare. Oh yes, I have become my mother.

It used to be that she and I were polar opposites on the temperature meter. She was always hot, I was always cold. In the past year I’ve discovered that I’ve become hot more and more often, and she’s been cold more and more often.

I’m not talking about when it’s a heat index of 100, or a wind chill of 15. I’m talking about in everyday life. In a perfectly air-conditioned, climate controlled building. She used to complain about being hot all the time, at work, at home, at the store. However in the past year she’s complained of being cold a few times, and even got a sweater for Christmas last year to leave at her work.

I, however, was the Popsicle with legs. My hands, my feet, arms, nose, you name it, it’d be cold. I couldn’t go barefoot, sometimes I used thin gloves while I was on the computer, and a Snuggie was the be-all, end-all invention. Then I noticed something, the other day while I was hanging my head over the edge of my bed, into the flow of the air conditioning. I noticed I’d been doing that a lot, and not just when it was humid out. Do a little housework? I get hot. Walk outside to get the mail and trashcan? I get hot. Eat Italian food? I get hot. Stand in the kitchen with the lights on doing nothing? I get hot. Wait, that last one is actually the lights’ fault. (Seriously, they must generate enough heat to warm a doghouse for an entire winter in one day.)

So it’s official, Mirror, I am my mother after all. When did you guys realize you were turning into one of your parents?

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