They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery.
And, when it comes to my mom, I’m not the only one who thinks so.
When I was about 12, my mom came home laughing about a game her friend’s kids had started playing over the weekend.
It was called “The Pat Fischer Game”. She said they liked the way her name sounded so they invented the game and took it from there.
Here are a few of the ways I like to play the game.
What little girl doesn’t want to look and act like their mom?
I was no exception and when I was younger I was, of course, into stealing her shoes and clothes. Oddly enough, I also attempted to get closer to her by eating her deodorant, now that’s love.
Regardless of my strange attempts, I still blush with pride when people remark at how similar we look…guess that deodorant trick worked.
I was blessed, or cursed, depending on the perspective, with my mom’s love for bad puns.
When planning what to make for dinner, I find myself channeling her words as I lightly squeeze my fiancé’s arm and ask, “What do you feel like for dinner?”
It gets me every time, and just as my mom has taught me, I’ve become my own best audience.
(This becomes especially apparent when I notice I am the only one laughing.)
I was 15, my mom had just picked my sister and up from skiing. It was December, at night in Wisconsin, it was cold and we were hungry.
We pulled up to the drive-thru window, and ordered our fries.
They were day-old!
My sister and I were bummed but prepared to suck it up.
We were not interested in bothering the slack-jawed teenager working in the cold Wisconsin air of the drive-thru, to make another batch for us.
My mom was not on board with this plan.
We turned right around, and she demanded a new bag of “Hot, freshly made fries, none of that day-old crap!”
My 15 year-old-self was mortified, but the three of us laugh in hysterics about this story now.
Everyday I attempt to channel the bravery and courage she showed in the face of that 16 year-old loose cannon.
Love and Support
On a long weekend home from college, I announced to my mother that I no longer wanted to study psychology.
Instead, I wanted to be a background dancer for Janet Jackson.
(I’m not even that good, I can white-girl bob with the best of them, but that’s the only trick I’ve got up my sleeve.)
I said it mainly out of frustration with some test or teacher but my crazy nut-of-a-mother told me to go for it.
She said that if that was what I really wanted to do, I should find Janet Jackson, wherever she was, and knock on her door until she gave me an audition.
And she was serious. What a mom!
She followed it up with this little gem,
“Do what makes you happy and the rest will follow.”
Happy Mother’s Day and long live “The Pat Fischer Game.”
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: Barbara Martin/Pixoto