Probably the highest compliment I can receive is being compared to my mom. I think all of you reading this blog know how highly I think of her, and how — while certainly acknowledging she has flaws because she is human, and therefore imperfect — she is as special as they come.

My dad has adopted an expression over the last few years — JLM, which stands for “Just Like Mom.” He’ll use it when one of us act in a way similar to my mom. When I hear this, it lights me up inside.

There are ways I consciously try to emulate my mom’s behaviors and qualities, looking to her as a role model. But as I was nicely reminded earlier this week, there are ways I’ve also unconsciously adopted some of these behaviors and qualities, and sometimes they come out in pretty amusing ways.

The other day, I was driving with the radio on, and a song I liked came on the radio. Before I knew it, I was tapping my hand on the underside of the steering wheel in line with the beat. As soon as I became aware I was doing this, my mind flashed back to an image of my mom doing the exact same thing. How funny, I thought, This is exactly what Mom would do!

Without realizing, I’d picked up on this habit of hers. So I started to wonder which of her other habits I’ve unconsciously adopted as well.

I’m sure there are a lot that I’m not aware of, but I am aware of a couple sillier ones. Like, pressing the microwave buttons with our pointer finger knuckles. As with the steering wheel tapping, I caught myself doing this the other day without thinking about it. This is a pretty odd habit I acknowledge, and I 100% blame my mom for it.

In my defense, I normally use my fingertip to press the buttons like the rest of the world, but from time to time something seems to comes over my finger as it bends inward and my knuckle lunges uncontrollably for the “Add minute” button.

While I’m on the topic of weird microwave habits, I might also point out that my mom would also sometimes curl her fingers into a ball and extend her middle finger to press the buttons. Where she developed these quirky button-pressing habits and why they’ve stuck in my mind, I have no idea.

Okay, enough microwave talk. Also earlier this week I found myself engaging in another Mom-like habit: Scarfing down popcorn at the movies like we hadn’t eaten for days. I’d say my mom generally exercised pretty decent self-control, but not with popcorn; throughout the movie her hand just kept reaching over and grabbing handful after handful of the hot, buttery goodness. And then after the movie, we’d get a free refill (which came with ordering a large bucket) and take the tub home with us, and on drive ride home she’d just keep going for it.

And last week at the cinema, that was me — I went to a movie with Shaan and Nikhil and we ordered our standard tub of popcorn. I was sitting in the middle, holding the tub on my lap, chucking handful after handful into my mouth, even though 1) We had dinner plans right after and 2) Shaan and Nikhil were exercising solid self-control on both sides of me and had stopped eating about half an hour before.

A funny side note about popcorn: As I mentioned, our local movie theater used to give one free refill if you ordered a large popcorn. Once in a while we wouldn’t get through the first tub, though. In wanting to get the best value for money, we’d bring the tub home with us so we could take it back next time and ask for the refill then.

Somewhere down the line, we took this further: Our family was heading out on a road trip and decided that we’d stop by the movie theater with the empty popcorn tub, ask for the refill, then hop back in the car and enjoy it as a snack on the road. And that became a thing for all future road trips.

Ridiculous? Yes. But worth it? Oh yes. And you guessed it, my mom was in full support in the driver’s seat.

(Years later, the movie theater implemented a “same day refill only” policy.  I’m pretty sure we were the reason behind this.)

I’ve deliberately kept this post pretty lighthearted in the examples I’ve shared — steering wheel tapping, microwave button pressing, and popcorn inhaling — but it’s rooted in something deeper. Like I said at the beginning of this post, I love the thought of being like my mom. Even though I’ve called out sillier habits that I now share with her, I also like to think that there are meaningful qualities I’ve learnt and will keep learning from her that can reflect her beauty in my day to day life.

It’s these qualities that I’ve written about in some of my other posts, like her compassion, generosity, warmth, or kindness. And I hope as I continue to grow throughout my life, that I will also continue to develop these qualities in myself.

For if I end up just like — or anything like — Mom, I will count my life a wonderful and beautiful success.