It was just some dumb little thing. Your mother told you not to do it, and she scolded and reminded you every time she caught you at it. Now you're grown up, Mom's not around, and you--?

Depends: a lot of a’s, some b’s. Really depends – but most of the time she was spot on and it was common sensical. She’s a smart, classy mom.

I open bobby-pins with my teeth. Over half a century later, my teeth are still unharmed by this practice, and every time I do it I feel a bit guilty, defiant and triumphant, all at the same time. HAH to you, Mom!

B and C. And occasionally, D) I do it in front of her, just to drive it home that she’s full of shit.

Sometimes I leave the door open when the air conditioner is on. Yes mom, I am trying to cool the whole town down.

Those are exactly the kinds of things I mean! @JilltheTooth, I’d forgotten that one, but yup, I did that. Still would if I still used bobbi pins.

I sprinkle brown sugar from the spoon using my finger. You have to because brown sugar doesn’t actually sprinkle like white sugar; it comes off in clumps and can’t be evenly distributed unless you help it along. So that’s a B.

I guess I wasn’t supposed to do that when it came from the sugar bowl by way of a shared sugar spoon. Touching the food surface of anything that others used was absolutely forbidden, as was touching the food itself. (Who did we think prepared it? God? We never said a prayer to thank Mom for the food.) I don’t see that it matters when I stick my teaspoon directly into the sugar and then eat the cereal with the same spoon (which of course never goes back into the sugar), but I still feel like I’m getting away with something.

Biting my nails, a lifelong habit. They.re various lengths. )-:

@Jeruba : Well, wrist slaps all around! I wonder how @Katawagrey would answer this…

What did you tell her not to do?

Damn. I don’t really remember. Not much, she kind of was who she was and I stood on the side waving my arms and hoping she’d notice me! ;-)

I….do it til I’m satisfied…whatever it is…..
just like the song says.

…still find my thumb in my mouth occasionaly. And I do not have buck teeth.

Let’s see…

I still keep up my membership in the Clean Plate Club (my grandmother was OBSESSED with clean plates, having grown up during the Depression and all…) So does my husband, thanks to his mom. So that’s a ”(d): You still diligently follow instructions” on both counts.

I still bite my nails occasionally. No, my teeth haven’t shattered yet, Grandma. That’s a C.

I still walk around barefoot all. the. time. No, I haven’t gotten worms yet, Grandma. That’s a C, too.

My husband still twirls his hair and wears ball caps all the time. He’s not bald yet. B.

A mixture of E) All of the above. I can’t think of one thing my mom hasn’t been on my ass about at one point or the other and by the law of averages, she is sometimes right.

I think the worst thing you can do to a kid is criticize and lecture and to say too much. Kids will not listen and they will privately believe you are full of bull meadow muffins. Besides, some things you have to experience for yourself to understand why you are counseled against it.

Most of the time, I ignore what she says. When I was younger, it was out of rebellion and spite, but now I think I have a fair grip on what’s up and a better idea than she does of how I want to live my life. Not to mention, we appear to have very different values in some key areas.

@MissAnthrope I always felt that lectures were more for the lecturer’s sake than the lecturee’s. And it’s true – when it turned out that my parents were lying about pot, everything I knew I learned from potheads (course, that’s not true anymore, but still…),

I’ve never ever had to shave my palms.

My mom still tells me and everybody else what to do and how to do it (often multiple times in the space of a few minutes), and my choices are: a) humor her or b) tell her to shut up already and then deal with her hurt feelings. YAY!