PRESSED

OppositesHow to Keep People from Turning into their Parents

by DORETTE ROTA PRHPRESSEDPRESSED By Dorette Rota Jackson JACKSON

Too late for me. And for my sister

TDawn. And since we’re together more than not, it’s very obvious when one of us says something we heard from the mouths of our parents growing up.

That’s why the commercial is so funny! Don’t ask me what they’re selling, but I do laugh every time it comes on!

It’s a freezer, not a time capsule, he says while reaching for something wrapped in tin foil. Scottish egg? No. It’s a meatball. Followed by funny scenes and classic lines. No one who made the movie is here, he tells the woman clapping in the movie theater after the show. Leaving before the game is over to beat the traffic. Using the bathroom before you leave the house. I’m guilty. I say ridiculous things I’ve heard growing up. I can hear those words surface from the deep recesses of my mind and can’t control myself.

I have a problem with exiting. Whenever it’s time to leave the house for a meeting or appointment, I get this overwhelming desire to double check things - do I have my phone, keys, glasses, wallet, bottle of spring water? I make sure the oven is off, the door is locked, the coffee pot is unplugged.

Sometimes, if I’m really overthinking, I’ll run the vacuum or spray the shower with scrubbing bubbles. It drives everybody nuts, especially if they’re waiting for me in the car.

Anyone who knows my sister knows she loves to talk. And talk some more. We stopped at Pop’s for a water ice and a few pretzel rods. Peach for me. Mango for her. I headed to the car while she chatted with the girls behind the counter. After 10 minutes, she’s chatting with someone else. “I’m making buttons over here,” I holler out the window to no one there. She eases her way over, her back toward me, while her friend continues the conversation. “Haste makes waste!” I holler again. This time, she hears me. ‘What are you saying?’ she asks with a wrinkled brow as she walks toward the car. ‘Who even says that anymore? You sound like Daddy.’

“No, daddy would say, ‘Geeze! She can talk the balls off a pool table!’”

‘What do you want me to do? Ignore people? I’m happy to see humans out and about, again. Haste? You wouldn’t know haste if it ran you over! I walk faster than you run!’

‘Opposites!’ she says out loud. ‘Opppppposites,’ she drags out the word we use when we’re not in sync. ‘I knew you were making buttons over here, but I couldn’t be rude. You’d be happy just smiling politely and walking past the people. Not me. I’m going to stop and chat with them.’

I bring the phrase, “making buttons,” to her attention when she finally stops talking. “I used those exact words after the first 10 minutes you yapped while I waited. Did you hear me say that?”

‘How could I hear you? I was having a nice conversation.’

“Don’t you think it’s funny we both used that phrase without knowing it?” I ask. “Goes to show you how much we are influenced by the things we hear from our parents.”

‘I don’t know about you, but I didn’t hear that from Mommy or Daddy. We heard it from our friends. Everybody knows what “making buttons” means.’

“Why buttons?” I ask. “Why not doughnuts or pizza? Who makes buttons in South Philly?”

‘Here’s one for you,’ she says. ‘I’m having a conniption sitting in this car, right now,’ she laughs. ‘What does that even mean? Who uses the word conniption? But, if you say that to someone in the neighborhood, they know.’

We hit the post office, the bank, and drop in on a few clients before heading home. When we get to Oregon Avenue, I hang a right and head toward 24th street. I pull into the drive-thru at Mickey Dee’s. Without even asking her, I order 2 medium fish combos with extra tartar and extra cheese. One water. One diet coke. Then I pull into a parking spot in the lot, facing east. We call it lunch on the “waterfront.” Even though the waterfront is 24 blocks away. It’s what we do and where we go sometimes to help us decompress.

What can I say? Opposites attract. PRH