Hand-me-down Genes

I'm sure some of us have said, at one point or another, "I'm never gonna do that." (in reference to parents) Oops! Wrong! The older I'm getting, the more I become my parents. A healthy mixture of both, mind you. My dad is a lot more laid back and reserved and my mother is very open and entertaining. She always was a great hostess while my dad was much more comfortable upstairs in his room away from all the noise.

Family dinners were a big thing in the house. It was the one thing my mother demanded to have without any excuse. I don't blame her for that because it was difficult to wrangle six different schedules under one roof. In fact, I think we all enjoyed it. We'd have a huge dinner and afterward, we wouldn't disappear or run off to avoid clean-up or rejoining friends. We sat around the table for over an hour talking about anything and everything.
Or play our favorite game of "Who can gross out mom the most?" This scenario was usually the norm. It always started with one of us kids and the rest of us trying to one-up the last. Usually my brother would pioneer this venture because his mission in life is to annoy you. (I think they made that into a T-shirt)
I'll spare you the details but, of course, each attempt was getting more and more graphic. Cries of "Oh, c'mon!" and "Agh, you guys!" and "Ew, gross!" would bellow from my mom. My reserved and observing father sat at the head of the table laughing uncontrollably, possibly wondering where his kids got their humor. All the while, mom hitting dad in the arm, "Hoy! Don' encourage dem!" Unbeknownst to us, dad was scheming himself, letting the game play out as long as my mom could handle it. And after red faces, frozen smiles, and tear-filled eyes dad would lay down the biggest trump of all. The biggest shouts and laughter filled the kitchen instantaneously; I'm sure our neighbors could hear the raucous.
"Okay, dat's it, I'm going upstairs!!" Mom would be up and out of her chair in a nanosecond and that was the cue that dinner was officially over. Dad wins!

I digressed.

During one of our many family dinners, we were discussing....something. In any case, it prolonged the evening and none of us felt compelled to up and leave. Not a serious conversation but we were definitely involved. What I do remember is realizing that my siblings and I were sitting in our chairs exactly like dad. The left elbow was bent and hanging off the back of the seat, our bodies twisted to shift our weight onto our left side while the right leg was extended and the right arm laying on the tabletop. It took me a moment to notice the similarities between the five of us. I scanned each individual and ended up toward dad's position who always sat to my right. Trying not to move, I began laughing but couldn't get the words out to explain this sudden fit of hysterics. Once revealed, this began a whole other topic of discussion of "Things I find myself doing just like mom and dad". To this day, it's still a topic that surfaces now and again.

Once, not too long ago, my older brother-in-law had pointed out that my sister had a way of saying one particular word. I repeated it and found myself saying it just as comfortably as she. Now in our defense, this actually comes from our parents whose foreign accents influence certain pronunciations. Even phrases are included in this category. Although, it was fun listening to our foreign-born relatives put the wrong 'emPAHsis' on the wrong 'syLAHble'. Like laBORatory and cirCUMstances and ACcesSORies.

But, it's not just the way I pronounce words or physical gestures that surprise me, it's much more than that.

A couple of years ago, I was cooking dinner and like most Filipinos, I had to have rice with the meal. Normally, I eat in ratio; rice, meat and veggies in one spoon. The very first bite I took was a spoonful of white rice, large and heaping. This is something that my dad did at every meal. He always claimed, "I could lib on rrrice alone." This gesture took me by the biggest surprise. Actually, I was stunned, so stunned that I immediately got on the phone to text this shocking discovery to my family members.

So to make a long story longer, we are who we are with a little bit of influence from those that raise us. The tiny nuances and idiosyncrasies graciously get passed down from generation to unsuspecting generation. We can deny it all we want but sooner or later our hand-me-down genes will find their way into our everyday lives.

Highbeam's note: I dedicate this blogpost to my wonderful parents for giving us a loving home, the gift of laughter, and the family time that I now miss. We miss you; see you next year!

Sent from my BlackBerry® on the MetroPCS Network