I Cursed My Son

I’ve cursed my 15 year old son. He can be strong willed and tenacious and, like his mom, he is inclined to yell. I am convinced his temper is the result of my mother cursing me. In frustration she’d say, “I hope you have one just like you some day!”   I could feel my DNA recombining even as the words spilled from her mouth.

One like me someday... I was a shy teenager, this boy while quiet, is very confident.  I was a diligent A/B student; he is a dilettante A/B student.  I never, ever played sports; he came out of the womb wearing a football helmet, hockey stick in one hand, baseball in the other.  No surprise he was born by c-section.

He does have my kind heart, my passion about the things that matter to us.  And... he has my temper.  I am pretty sure that is what my mom was cursing me with, a child with the same stubbornness and annoying verbal dexterity that had I blessed her with.  The kind of pig-headedness that makes you want to yell, cry in aggravation, and curse your kid with the age old mother's curse.

Like most woman of my generation, we want to go one better than our moms. So I do. When he is being difficult in a way that reflects his genetic gifting, I smile, climb on a chair, look him in the eye and utter the mother’s curse…super sized,” I hope you have triplets just like you some day”.