I’m a mimic.  I can’t seem to help it.  It just seems to sneak up on me and I don’t even realize it.

It’s not that big of a problem, except if people think I’m making fun of them.  For example, if I’m talking to someone from England, I start to sound rather British – Austrialian, I ooze toward sounding like an Aussie.  And, Southern, well you get the idea.

This was brought home to me the other day.  I attended a local meeting of a service organization.  I was with this group of people for a couple hours.  They’re a great group of folks and I enjoy their company.  At one point, though, one of them said teasingly, “She’s from Michigan, although you’d never know it to talk to her”.

And, I thought, “Oh great!  I must be doing it again!”

Actually, I come by it very naturally.  My mother was the same way.  My family has a famous story about my mom and her accents.  Your family has famous stories, right?  Those moments in time that define your relatives and that you never let them forget?

I was a teenager, and my parents had friends named Claire and Sy.  Or maybe it was Cy.  Don’t know if I ever knew what it was short for, maybe Cyrus?

Anyway, Claire and Cy were from the South, and Claire especially had a pretty distinct Southern accent.  We all teased my mother because whenever she was with Claire, my mom became Southern, too.  But, one particular day stands out in the annals of our family history.

Mom was upstairs getting dressed because she and Claire were going out somewhere.  I was downstairs and heard my mother’s voice calling to me.

“Kathleeeann, will you get the doah?  Clay-aire is pullin’ in the drahv-waaay.”

And, we talk about that day whenever famous family stories are discussed.  I mean, really!  Claire hadn’t even gotten in the house yet, and my mom was already “metamorphasizing” into a Southern Belle.

Actually the word is metamorphosing, but I don’t think it’s really as descriptive.

So, to anyone who is British, Australian, Southern, or who speaks English with an accent different than mine – let me apologize in advance.  I’m not making fun of your accent . . .    it’s a hereditary defect.