What I've Inherited from My Father

I never thought this would happen. I have become my father, not physically, no. I easily clear six feet; the tallest he ever got was five-six. I am religious when it comes to keeping to my exercise routine; he died relatively young from heart failure. No, I have inherited his thriftiness, his stingy nature, his tight hold on his wallet. I never intended it. We came from needy circumstances and I never blamed him for it either. My father knew how to stretch a dollar and took pride in it, enforced his rules strictly.

I remember lights being turned off at ten sharp each night. Unless I was still working on homework, he would come in my room and turn off my lights. I got a haircut every four months, regardless of how long it got. If I complained, he would tell me to ask my mother for a trim, a terrifying proposition. She was many things, among which was a good mother, but no one should ever let her touch their hair even if they offered money for it. I wore hand-me-downs until I was sixteen when I got a job and could pay for some of my own clothes. I rarely saw the doctor. I got two tablets of Tylenol from an expired bottle and told to get some rest. It didn't matter what I had. Stomach ache? Tylenol. Flu? Tylenol. Acne? Tylenol.

For all the good his behavior did me, kept me under a warm roof, sent me to college, I vowed tha I would make money and not hold onto it so tightly. That I would be well off enough that my children would get what they wanted, and needed. They would get to go out to restaurants once in a while. They could have delicacies like ice cream and non-powdered milk more than once a month. They would get Pepto Bismol if they had an upset stomach.

And I became well off. I am by no means rich, but I make a good living. I live comfortably and I can afford if not all, then at least some of the finer things in life. So it came to a surprise to me when I heard myself tell my son, "You don't need a haircut yet. Let's wait another month."

He looked at me incredulously, or at least I think he did. His bangs shielded examination of his eyes.

"Ask your mother from a trim," I heard myself saying.