So tonight I was chillin’ with my sis and her husband, and I described to them the basics of the blog argument with emphasis on “How do you think I could have done better?” because they’re part of my advice-giving-and-receiving circle. It’s late and my vocabulary has deserted me. I’m sure there’s actually a word for that. Confidants?

Yeah, so, the epiphany was that with even just a little tiny explanation about my long blog posts, the source of the problem was entirely clear to them both.

“You pulled a Bob*.”


Yeah, other women grow up to realize they turned into their moms after solemnly promising their younger selves not to. I grow up and discover I turned into my dad. 

I love him dearly. But he’s an Odd too. And the long convoluted ALL THE TOPICS AND PERMUTATIONS THEREOF AT ONCE thing? Sooooo totally him. So sis and bil have encouraged me to limit myself to one, clearly defined, topic at a time in the future, because people really, really cannot follow Bobisms without extensive training or exposure.

And I really don’t want to encourage myself to turn into my dad in this particular aspect of his personality. Don’t get me wrong, he’s well liked by everyone that I know of and possessed of great character, deep faithfulness, and many virtues which I do want to emulate, but if you mention someone “pulling a Bob” to anyone who knows him, you will get understanding nods and sympathetic “oooooooooooooooooooohs” from basically the entire group. (Now imagine what it’s like to grow up thinking that’s normal behavior.)

Sorry ’bout that, y’all. I shall attempt to maintain coherence, as difficult as that is for someone with my childhood experience. 😉

*Not his actual name.

About pancakeloach

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