Don't be surprised if I start calling y'all the wrong names.

I am becoming my mother. I think it's something every woman dreads because didn't we all swear somewhere around the age of 15 that we would never be like our mothers. OH. MA. GAH.

Case in point, my mom has what I lovingly refer to as Sudden Screaming Syndrome, or SSS. You won't find it in any medical books, but know it could send you to the emergency room just as easy as a compound facture could. Sudden Screaming Syndrome produces blood curdling screams in situation where an, "Oh my, that slightly startled me" would have sufficed. You'll even see, or more appropriately hear the affects of SSS when my mom sneezes. Most every other human being's sneeze is a simple version AA-choo. But not my mom's sneeze. Her sneeze goes a little like this AHH- OH MY GOD I AM BEING STABBED WITH HOT POKERS IN MY KIDNEYS – choo. And the beauty of her sneeze is that it lacks any warning signs that would prepare you for The Sneeze. One minute you're deep in concentration chopping vegetables for the evening's DELICIOUS! salad, and then WHAM! BAM! My mom slaps you up-side the head with The Sneeze, and then you can only hope everyone enjoys salads with julienne carrots with a side of finger tip.

Once SSS stuck our family when we were driving home from the mall or somewhere as equally suburban, and we passed the local Chinese Buffet. At this point in Oklahoma Chiii-naise Boo-fays were somewhat of a novelty, and they were constantly packed with Rednecks getting their fill of "culture" and "gourmet cuisine." Then out of NO. WHERE. My mom screams/screeches/belts out, "OH MY GOODNESS!" at a pitch that presumably tortured every dog within a five mile radius of her. It's helpful to mention that at the time we were stopped in a bit of traffic jam because ahead of us was a car wreck with two fire trucks and an ambulance responding to it. So when everyone in car heard my mom shriek we perked up, expecting a carnage of the likes we had never seen. Was something exploding? Were there heads rolling around on the asphalt? WHATCOULD IT BE?! And then in a calm as ever voice she states, "Look at all those people waiting in line to eat at the Chinese buffet." We had all crapped our pants in anticipation of the unholy wreckage in front of us only to be disappointed by the (at max) 8 people waiting to indulge in all you eat chicken lo mein. Sudden Screaming Syndrome has impeccable timing like that.

In yet another incidence, we were in the car returning from a grueling shopping trip (SSS is 7 times more likely to occur inside a moving vehicle), and my step-dad, Marvin, in no uncertain terms had informed us that we were NOT stopping the car until we arrived home. Now in Oklahoma during the spring and summer, you'll see the occasional fruit stand along the side of the road. I never thought my mom was a particularly huge fruit fan, but when she saw this fruit stand she desperately wanted to stop. Marvin, being ever so understanding, said NO. I'm not quite sure how the events exactly unfolded in my mom's head, but I guess she believed if she couldn't stop at the fruit stand the she would just roll down the window and SCA.REAM. at the adorable old man running the stand, "GOT ANY WAAAATER-MELOOOON?!?" The poor guy dropped what he had in his hands and hit the deck because I can only imagine my mother screaming at him sounded like verbal machine gun fire from a Ford Taurus station wagon flying down the street at 70 miles per hour.

And sadly, I learned over the holiday Sudden Screaming Syndrome is hereditary. I have begun to display the telltale warning signs of the disease. It happened when my mother and I decided to go shopping the day after Christmas because we are such a sucker for all those SALES! At our last stop I was attempting to park the behemoth of a vehicle known as Marvin's truck, when its rear view mirror got caught on the car next to me and folded backwards. Now, folks this is what these mirrors are designed to do, but it made a loud CR-ACKing sound. It was such a loud crack that it angered my mom's SSS intensely, and she let out the most blood curdling scream you have ever heard. To which I responded with my own Sudden Screaming Syndrome, "SHUUUUT UP MOTHER!" And look, I know I said shut up to my mom - tar and feather me later – but seriously people, the windows were down, and we were in a parking garage. In such a confined space that scream had the enough magnitude that shoppers were ducking for cover and I know all the mall security guards were thinking, this is it – THIS IS IT! - the day that I get to finally save someone.

And then I shot my mom a look that said, don't you dare say another word. And she knew what the look meant because she is the inventor of said look. And I knew just how to wield it because I have been on the receiving end of this look many a time in my life.

So after my blood pressure returned to normal and I stopped shaking violently (that's how loud and piercing this scream was) I parked the truck successfully. As we entered the mall a woman ran up to us to make sure everyone was okay. I kid you not.

If I have a daughter, I'm positive that I will pass my SSS on to her as my mom passed it on to me. And to her I apologize profusely in advance. Charlie already can't stand driving with me in the passenger seat. He's had to yell at me to STOP SCREAMING LIKE THAT, you're gonna give me a heart attack! I always retort, you have no idea what it looks like from over here – which is verbatim what my mom says. Again, I apologize because I know, oh how I KNOW what it feels to be in the driver seat with someone who has SSS in the passenger seat. All that gasping, the flailing arms and pounding of the imaginary brake pedal. I can only hope that Charlie will be as forgiving with me as Marvin is with my momma.

Even though my mom has put me through plenty of SSS episodes you better believe I still love her and couldn't ask for a better mom. I wouldn't trade her or any of her crazy sneezes for anything in the world. My mom is the strongest and most beautiful woman I know. She taught me everything I know, like never trust a man who has more hair products than you. She taught me to fear not the colon (as in the body organ not the punctuation mark), and that corn gives you good poopers. And with her infinite wisdom gained from her registered nurse days she taught me that Advil will cure ANYTHING. Cramps, headaches, broken bones, and possibly the ebola virus if given in large enough doses. To this day if you haven't tried to cure your ills with Advil, my mom will not believe you are truly sick. She was also wise enough to shove me in the largest burlap sack she could find when my chest, ahem, blossomed in 8th grade. But most importantly she taught me to always do things for myself, to be independent and to never try to fit into someone else's mold. Oh, and FINISH school before you get married.

So mom if you're reading, I just want you to know that no matter how old I get or how much those sneezes scare the ever loving crap out of me, I will never be too big for you to rock me to sleep in your arms.


Love,

Your baby girl, Poop