Like Father, Like Daughter

It's just so funny to me that we spend so many years seeking out our identity, pushing boundaries, testing limits, trying new things, just in the offchance that we'll discover, on even the smallest level, who we are and what we're all about. Time passes, and you are finally the adult version of yourself you've fought to be and within a short amount of time, you realize after all the soul searching what you are is... your parents. Didn't need to backpack through Europe, didn't need to take all those philosophical classes in college, didn't need to rebel or whatever else we did to grasp our identity. Quite frankly, we just needed to show up to the dinner table. You see, I am my father. I kept thinking that as a grown woman I would naturally start to see myself resemble my mom. So imagine my surprise as I have the epiphany standing in a Walgreens that, no,no, I am my dad. Although I've had a few indications over the years that this was the direction I was heading, my epiphany in Walgreens came when I walked in and the cashier sees me and calls out,

"Oh, hey Mrs. Taylor how are you?"
"I'm doing good Randy, how are you?"
"Good, good, just working you know."
"Well, you don't usually work weekends, did you get called in?"
"Just changed shifts with somebody. So are you running again or are you still doing that boot camp thing?"
"Oh, I'm doing a little of everything, how about you, you still riding your bike?"
"Yes, I'm training now. Thinking about entering some races."
"Well, good luck with that! I better get my milk before the kids get cranky for their cereal."
"How are your kids liking school?"
"Oh, really good, just really busy, I should bring them in so you can see how big they're getting!"
"Oh great, ok, well see you next time!"
"See ya Randy!"
Growing up, few things mortified me more than the fact that my dad was on friendly terms with every cashier, every banker, mailman, or drive-thru attendant we came across. He couldn't just walk into a store, buy what he needed and leave. Oh on. When asked the generic question by a cashier of, "And how are you doing today?" my dad would glance at their name tag and then say, "Well..Debbie, I'm doing good..." and then proceed to tell her why he was at the store, what he was buying, why he was buying it, where he grew up, the fact that he had 7 kids and on and on until before he left they would part as if him and Cashier Debbie were longtime friends. On return trips he could even ask followup questions.
"So, Debbie, how is Johnny doing in his algebra class, still having trouble?" Unreal. And to a 13 year old, very embarrassing.
As I bought my milk in Walgreens, the earth slowed in rotation as I had a moment of clarity. Just the week before I had had a conversation with a Wendy's drive thru employee. I know that this employee works two jobs, that he is trying to pay off his car. That his girlfriend and him go to the same college and that his dad just had major surgery. AHH!!
I knew in that moment, just as I knew that Randy and his wife's new favorite restaurant was called The Patio, that I was my father. I like sappy movies, I like the Discovery Channel, I can only tell a story from the beginning and must give all details involved. (My dad will tell us stories from his childhood and will always say, "So, when we lived in Fresno California.." Yes dad. We know where Fresno is.) I don't say, "how are you doing?" i catch myself saying, "how the heck are ya?!" I tell cornball jokes to my kids, I tell them to eat all their food because there are starving children in the world who would be grateful for their food.
Yes, my name is Melanie, and I am my father. And even though that means there may be moments down the road where my children will pretend they don't know me... I guess I really couldn't ask to be anybody better:)