Note To Self
If the Olympic games offered nagging as a competitive sport, my mother would take the gold, silver and bronze. In fact, if there were a lifetime achievement award for this time-honed skill, I’m sure she’d snag that too because no one deserves the title, ‘Nag of the Century’ quite like my mom does. When it comes to nagging—the polar opposite of effective communication — she’s the CEO of the entire operation.
My earliest and sharpest memory of her screeching, harpy nagging ability took place in a Japanese restaurant in New York City. Those were the days when chic urban sushi places didn’t exist and Japanese restaurants were these very quiet, dark, elegant places where patrons tried the exotic dishes of the day, none of which were served raw. Still, the vibe of the place was stoic; soft koto music in the background, kimono-clad wait staff and that…
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