The Mother Ship and Punnett Squares....

I'm currently inhabiting the Mother Ship. 

It's always good to make the great voyage to my Home Planet.  Firstly, because I love to see my Parental Units.  And secondly, because it means that I don't have to cook for as many meals as I spend suppin' at the Table'O'Rents.

I've been breathing the same air as my Begetters for the better part of 12 hours now, and I've made some very observant observations.

1.  That my mother is an excellent housekeeper.  I left my white gloves in my other purse, but I've been studying the surfaces and faces of this fine crash pad, and I can't find a speck of dust anywhere.  I've also noticed that the beds are always made here.  And the laundry and dishes are always caught up.  I decided that maybe it was just because we're not at home anymore, and surely Jim-Dad can't make too big of a mess for her to have to clean up after.  But then I remembered that the house was always clean when I lived at home, too.  And she worked a full-time job.  And now I realize that I inherited narry a squosh of her cleanliness genes. 

2.  That I will from now on blame my messy house and piles of laundry begging to be folded on the unfortunate outcome of a Punnett Square.  Can't fight genetics....

3.  That my affection for an afternoon nap is also the result of many years of fruit fly analysis.  As long as I can remember, my mom has settled herself down for an afternoon siesta.  No ifs, ands, or buts.  Just napping.  So my retirement to my bed every afternoon isn't laziness....it's genetics.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  And to think that I didn't believe them when they said that suffering through Mr. I'm-A-Bore Berry's Biology class in highschool would all pay off one day. 

4.  That while we're on the topic of genetics, this would be a safe time to huddle around the fact that I was not blessed with my mother's Green Thumbedness.  Well, I guess that's not entirely true.  Perhaps my own Green Thumb is just suppressed under miles and miles of my own unwillingness to hang out watering flowers for an hour in the hot and sticky Arkansas humidity.  I kid you not...it was an hour that my mama stood out there with that water hose tonight.  AN HOUR?  ON FLOWERS?  That's a whole episode of Grey's Anatomy.  Um...not gonna happen.  Even for the love of a tiger lily.

5.  That Shirley Temple movies are just as black and white here as they are my house.  But they are much more entertaining and easy to watch.  Could be because Jim-Dad and Grammy watch them of their own freewill and don't huff, puff, and blow the tv set down.  I'm beginning to notice that the Husband's idea of vintage viewing entertainment is watching an episode of Manswers from last November, and that the only Shirley Temple he knows of is the one propping up a mini paper umbrella.

6.  That I'm going to sleep well tonight knowing that my mama and daddy are in the next room....

Whoever said you can't go home again was crazy..... 
As was Mr. Boring Biology Berry.