I walked into the office pantry, mug in hand, and then froze mid-step. The floor was being mopped and it was wet. I cannot walk on wet floors.

A few seconds later, in walked another. My frozen state infected her as well. But she was a little less guilt-ridden as she walked across – the floor too was drying up.
“My mother always told me not to walk on wet floors.”
“So did mine!”
“And to sit with our feet up when the floor was being mopped.”
“Oh my god! And then the fan would be switched on even if it was freezing cold!”
“…so that the floor dried up fast.”
“I think it is something about mothers!”
“And I kept telling my mother ‘I hope I don’t become like this!’”
“I think mother’s come that way.”
It really did not matter who said which line. We both knew exactly what we were talking about.

So, will all of us become like our mothers (or fathers, for that matter) some day?”