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January 16, 2014 / ljbradburn-Smith

(dis)Like Mother (dis)Like Daughter

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I have been likened to my lovely mother on a number of occasions, by a number of people. Along with the curly hair, being quite loud, making strange noises, and enjoying reading, more than your average bear, we also have a major dislike in common: cleaning. A perfect example, of my aversion/allergy, and one that my university housemates remind me of to this day is the time that I cried, whilst cleaning out the oven, before we moved out of our student accommodation for the final time. Real tears that is, not moany, whingy pretend ones but actual wet tears. Of grief.

I have heard it said that the things we like and dislike are often hereditary and if this doesn’t prove it I don’t know what will……

One day, when I was about 14, I arrived home to find my mum rolling about on the floor moaning. I rushed over, thinking the worst – a shark attack, poisoning or broken back. The second unusual thing that I noticed (the first was obviously the rolling on the floor bit) was that she was wearing a tracksuit and not her usual glamorous attire.

Before you start to get too concerned though I suppose I better tell you that my mum wasn’t actually gravely (or even remotely) ill, she hadn’t been attacked by killer bees or fractured her spinal cord as I’d feared, what had actually happened was that she had started dusting. She had tried to mentally prepare herself by donning her sportiest of gear, in the hope it would give her motivation, but after two full minutes it was obvious that even Nike wasn’t going to help her ‘just do it’ (I would just like to make it clear here that I am mainly blaming Nike for this incident and if they would like to compensate me in any way that would be a nice gesture of good will) and she was so distressed that she had to resort to throwing herself down on the floor to make it stop.

I rushed over and after establishing that she wasn’t majorly hurt and agreeing with her that there were always much better things to do than dust and that I understood her metaphorical (but no less real) pain at having to clean, we looked into each other’s eyes and both made a silent agreement……to never dust again. That was over ten years ago and to this day I keep my side of the bargain and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t gone back on it either.

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One Comment

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  1. Sherri / Jan 16 2014 11:00 am

    Ha Ha! Oh Lydia, you do make me smile with your posts! x

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