The One True Daughter

Whenever I see my mother I tell her about how I’m her One True Daughter.

This is because we are just alike.

Usually she says that she has four one true daughters or something sappy like that.  This is because my little sister is seriously offended by the FACT that I am the One True Daughter.  I’m not saying that she’s not a great daughter. She is.  I’m just saying that I’m the apple who fell closest to the tree.  I mean this afternoon when I called my mom we spoke the exact same words to one another.

At the exact same time.

We said: How are you?

And then we paused, both hoping that the other would reply.  And in the exact same moment replied: I’m great!!

And if that isn’t proof enough.  We both ate quesadillas for lunch today.  No prompting required.

I am my mother.

Its as simple as that.

So the other weekend, when my mother was visiting me (cause she missed me so much), I changed my name in her phone to “One True Daughter”.

Because that’s what I am.  And because it was funny.

What wasn’t funny was when I called my mom yesterday and Penny answered.

She was mad as a hornet in a haystack.

And then she got over it . . . or so I thought.

As it turns out, she had words with my mother about the utter and complete wrongness of title.  And then my dad got into it.  My mom got an earful about how she shouldn’t pick favorites.  Even though she had nothing to do with it.  I mean, if I’d known all the ruckus this was going to cause, I would have just stuck with my narcissistic comments and left the written word out of it.


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