Is it a given that, as we age, we really do turn into our parents? That all those years of mumbling under our breath “I’ll never be like her/him” were useless because we are destined to repeat the same behaviors and catchphrases that used to “drive” us crazy?

Both of my parents were terrible drivers for different reasons. My father was an angry driver, a tailgating hellion who once passed a lumbering truck by veering onto the shoulder of Route 72, cursing all the way.