Bernard O'Shea: Five signs you're turning into your parents

Do you plug everything out at night, shout at the kids to close the f*cking door and drink endless cups of tea? You've turned into your parents, writes Bernard O'Shea

Bernard O'Shea: I’ve tried to limit my intake of the brown stuff, but I drink at least six to eight cups of the stuff every day. It's like everything I do inside my house. I make tea for it.

The more I venture into parenthood, I've realized that one thing is inevitable. I’m turning into my mother and father.

Last Tuesday, I turned on the telly. The kids found it amusing as they looked at the ads. “So they are trying to get you to buy their stuff, Dad?” my six-year-old asked. We rarely, if ever, turn on the “box” now that the house is firmly in the grip of the streaming services. My embarrassment came from the aim of my sole intended purpose. To “catch” the weather after the Six One news.

I’ve gradually become obsessed with the weather. I’ve no idea why or how this has happened. But since I turned 40, I constantly checked my phone for the forecast. It was only when my mother said to me, “Your father was obsessed with the weather too. He was constantly listening to the weather on the radio” Then she said, “I wonder whether it will rain later. It rained yesterday at the same time” I then realized the inevitable. I was turning into my parents.

All the things that used to wreck my head about them when I was a teenager I now do. If you think this strange genetic affliction is creeping into and cramping your sophisticated modern life, here are what I’ve dubbed the “Big Five” indicators that you are … becoming your parents.

You are obsessed with plugging out everything at night

Growing up, my father would sweep the house every night and plug everything out. This used to do my head in as he walked into my room to make sure I hadn’t left anything plugged in and wake me up. I always thought it was because he grew up in a time when electrification was new and was worried about fires. Sometimes I thought maybe he was trying to keep the ESB bill down. It resulted in me resetting the clock on the microwave every morning. I’d have nightmares about being on a life support machine and that when he came to visit me in hospital, he’d plug it out on the way home. Now 30 years later, I walk the entire house for some messed up a non-rational reason when everyone’s gone to bed and plug everything out. Why? I have no inherent distrust of electricity. It’s almost like a poltergeist inside me commanding me that I do it.

You can’t stand open doors in the house

“Close that fu*king door” was a common enough phrase in our house. It was said so much that until I was five, I thought a door was called a “fu*king door.” I always thought it came from a fear of letting the heat out of a room, but we could have been in other people's houses, and they would have closed the doors. Even later in life, if we were out for a meal, my mother or father would get up and complete an open door in a restaurant. I would be mortified. Fast forward a few decades, and I’m telling my wife, “those kids need to learn how to open and close a door.” It was almost like during my 40th birthday party; I just decided that I couldn’t sit in a room with an open door anymore.

Tea and more tea

I used to slag my parents growing up for constantly using the phrase “that’s the drugs” for anything that went wrong in the world. If a dormant volcano erupted, they would roll it out. “I know why that volcano spewed hot molten lava everywhere … that’s the drugs!” They were oblivious that they were utterly hooked on the most common drug of all caffeine in the guise of tea. Even now, I don’t think my mum could get through 24 hours without a cup of cha. But my ridicule has turned inwards on me. I’ve tried to limit my intake of the brown stuff, but I drink at least six to eight cups of the stuff every day. It's like everything I do inside my house. I make tea for it. I've to empty the dishwasher; I’ll make tea. I’ve to unload the dryer; I’ll make a cup of tea first. Thanks to my mother, she's got me on the more potent loose stuff, which is fantastic. I’ve even gone so far down the tea rabbit hole that I’m using the same caffeine-infused lingo that I’ve heard every day: “I’m parched … throw on the kettle.”

I keep asking the kids: “What do you want for your dinner?”

When my mother would ask me this as a teenager, I’d reply, “Ahhhhh, I don’t care, Ma, whatever stop asking me” Then I would give out when “eh I don’t like a turnip.” The kids almost gave me an intervention. They sat me down and said, “You have got to stop asking us what we want for dinner … we don’t know, and we keep telling you this”. So when I presented them with what I thought they would like, they nearly called the guards in disgust. One of them said, “Why would you give us fish ? We don’t even eat fish fingers.”

I’ll give you a (insert whatever the kids want)

I’m pretty sure that every kid in the country has been told the “I’ll give you a...” phrase at some stage. Its lexicon value is equal to whatever the child/teenager wants. For example: “Eh Da can I have 20 euro for the bus and tuck shop?” Then the reply from the Da above is: “20 euros! I’ll give you 20 euros”, resulting in total confusion as to whether or not the child is going to be the recipient of funds or has been roundly rejected. Recently I replied to my gaggle of geese when they asked me could they go to McDonald’s instead of sausages for tea. It came out of my mouth. Couldn’t I stop it? “McDonald’s? I’ll give you McDonald’s.” Resulting in them thinking they were going to McDonald’s. I was just about to back it up with “I didn’t get McDonald’s for my tea when I was your age,” but I am not there... yet.