This Bizarro cartoon is brought to you by Guilt Trip Travel Agency. "Enjoy your holiday in Mexico while your mother sits alone in Milwaukee."
As I approach the end of my life (I'm not all that old, I just don't see myself making it much past next week–call it an intuition) I have noticed myself looking more and more like my father. I love my father, he's a great guy in every way, nice-looking, too, but it is somehow disconcerting to see yourself turning into someone else. It seems a gradual theft of your identity.
As I stared into my shaving mirror one recent morning, lamenting my lost individuality, it occurred to me that it could be worse. I could be turning into my mother. Explaining my larger hips and ample breasts to my wife and friends would doubtless be uncomfortable.
Turning into your mother's dog would be even worse, of course. Although my wife loves dogs more than she does people, so I'd likely get more affection than I would as an elderly woman. My mother doesn't actually have a dog, though, so I'm safe on that account. But she does have a pet jackass. It's my father, which is who I'm turning into.
Ah, the circle of life.