It sneaks up on us. One day we’re staying out past curfew, reading Jack Kerouac and picking out our first tattoo; the next we wake up to see our dad (or mom) staring back at us from the bathroom mirror. The quirks and mannerisms we found ourselves rebelling against as kids somehow seep into our DNA with each passing year.
For me, it started with the nose. One could set a clock to it; every meal would end with my dad fishing around in his pocket and blowing a hearty Viking nose note into his handkerchief. It always embarrassed me when we’d go out to eat; it seemed so incongruous for this classy, mannered man to perform such a private bodily function in public.