My father's daughter

Okay, so you know how there are those moments in your life when you say to yourself, "Am I seriously a product of that person?" I often think this when my Dad throws the TV remote across the room and breaks it after his favorite team loses; or when he just lays on the horn for 20 seconds or so at someone blocking the intersection.

Well, last night we were out bumming around - you know, the usual: the grocery store, Home Depot, that whole bit.  Anyway, I looked at what the two of us were wearing and we both had the same thing on.

It was about 40-degrees and we were rocking t-shirts with no coats on and in our favorite flip flops and I thought to myself, "Yep, that is DEFINITELY my dad."

Now if only Mom can hang on to that remote on Saturday afternoons.