It wasn't as if I was officially eavesdropping..listening in on their private conversation. They were talking out loud - right there in front of me. As if I was invisible. As if I can't hear or can't see.
Young twenty-somethings. My children and hers - who all grew up together and into this new day and age.
They were telling stories about their mothers. About the strange things that they do. They were lauging..teasing..poking good fun. Like - how their mothers are wide awake so early in the morning..whereas they are still very half asleep. And like - how their mothers secretly indulge in afternoon dark chocolate when they believe that there is no one who might know or see.
At first - I thought to join in the good-natured fun. At first - I thought it was my mother about whom they were talking. And then..I realized - they were talking about me.
When is it that we became our mothers? And - when did it happen that our daughters have become us?