Open mouth, insert foot (or just scar your granddaughter for life.)

Sometimes I forget what stories I've told here and what I haven't so forgive me if I'm repeating myself with this post.

When I was young, my grandma would babysit my younger sister and I over the summer while my parents were at work. As a kid, I loved to read. Dr. Seuss was my favorite, and One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish was my favorite of his books. I'd read it over and over and giggle at all the made up creatures.

Sometimes my grandma would interject with statements like, "Poor Dr. Seuss is dead. Did you know that?"

Really.

My grandma, bless her heart, obviously isn't the most socially apt person. If telling a six year old girl that her favorite author is dead didn't drive that point home, let me present exhibit B...

My cousin, a former Marine, spent the last two years of his service in Germany, where he met a gorgeous and sweet girl. He stayed in Germany to be with her. They both came home to visit one summer and while sitting around the dining room table talking with this girl who was born and raised in Germany, my grandmother says, "I went to Germany years ago. I didn't like it. It was a big ol' mess. Of course, that was right after the war."

Yes, really.

I'm also not the most socially apt person so I often wonder if I'll be like my grandmother. I don't think so...

But then, when my manager brought her new baby to work and asked if it made me want one of my own, I replied, "It makes me want to go take all of my birth control."

Yes, really. I said that. And I felt this big.

I'm well on my way to becoming a carbon copy of my grandma. And that is scary.