I have my mother's thighs

I think it is just the job of a child to blame their parents for every bad or wrong thing that has happened in our life. I did it, and I can see my children are starting to do it. It’s always, “Ma, that’s because you didn’t let me go” or “Ma, that’s because you didn’t bring me to lessons”. There is always a reason why things went wrong, and it was always my mothers’ fault.lol. Of course, as we say, the wheels turn, and now I hear “Mommy, I fell at school today, and it’s all your fault”. I reply with “How is you falling at school, my fault?” and my son gives me this made up reason, “because you didn’t give me a belt for my pants.” And there was my answer. Basically, it’s my fault because I gave birth to him, and when you’re a mother, you are responsible for all bad choices, or decisions, or falls, or scrapes, or break ups. (Mothers are not responsible for good decisions.lol). When you think about it, we are just plain rude. Our mothers gave birth to us, she was up all night when we were sick, she made sure we had everything we needed, we always had a roof over our head (even though my father claims that was his doing..lol), a warm meal every night, a cozy clean bed to sleep in, and clean clothes to wear. But for some reason we blame them. We know that no matter what we do or say, they will always love us. So of course we take advantage of that.
I have 3 sisters, and let me tell you, it’s not as fun as you may think it is.lol. We almost always compared our body parts..lol. Seriously, we did, and still do. Noony got dad’s nose.lol, Gina got Zia Franca’s legs, Am got Nonno’s aunt’s ass, and I got my mother’s thighs..lol. My great Italian, thighs. Why didn’t I get her full, C cup boobies?
I guess we are all guilty of wishing our kids inherit certain parts, like eye colour, height, even intelligence. But in the end, it really doesn’t matter what we inherit (even though sometimes it is really scary when I look in the mirror and I see my mother, more and more everyday..lol) If we begin to see our mother in us, then we must be getting old..lol.
I know the day will come when my daughters will sit around comparing body parts and pointing out all the bad and maybe some of the good parts. I can say, look at the family photos and you figure out where it came from. I remember the days when I would say to my mother “Ma, thanks a lot, for giving me your thighs.lol” and she would always answer back, “Who the hell should I blame?” I say, blame your mother, and tell her what I tell you, “Ma, it’s all your fault, I got your thighs.”..lol.
That’s my peace today!

Grilled Chicken Pesto Pasta
2 chicken breasts
1/4 cup of pesto
1/4 cup mushrooms
1 pack of pasta (I usually use Farfalle or Penne)
4 tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper

Salt and pepper chicken, place on grill. Cook evenly for about 15 minutes (Until no longer pink) Cut into strips or chunks (however way you like it). Set aside. Cook pasta as directed, strain. In a pan pour olive oil, saute mushrooms, add chicken pasta and pesto. Toss for about 2 minutes and remove from heat.