The voices in my head

Growing up I recall several times saying that when I had children I would NEVER do or say the things my parents had done or said. I was quite adamant about this, quite sure they were inept, unreasonable and out right mean.
Of course they were none of those things- but I didn’t figure that out until I was much older.

Now I find they have permeated my being, popping out at me with out warning. This phenomena causes me to look over my shoulder sure one of them is lurking just behind me.
They are never there causing me to admit-reluctantly- that in fact the words have slipped through my very own lips.

They invaded my being with admirable stealth and patience. A ‘cause I said so’ here a little
‘I’ll explain when you’re older’ there until I finally had to admit that they had taken up residence in my mind, and like defiant squatters, refuse to move out.

It was my mother who snuck up on me with her invisible presence when Dustin small.

“Dustin,” I said, “ you need to eat your dinner.”
Granted he had only been eating the same plate of tuna casserole for an hour. Perhaps I was a little to quick to prod.

“I’m full.” He said with a certainty only a four year old can afford.

“How could you possibly be full you’ve only had two bites.” I said poking his belly for emphasis. “You have lots of room still.”

“ No. I’m full.”

“ What will we do with your dinner if you don’t eat it?

“ You eat it.”