No. Wire. Hangers.

They say children are impressionable. And I didn't believe that I was anything like my parents until a few days ago.

I should preface this with some backstory. I had a really bad hook-up this summer. His pecs were very moobish, leading me to call him "Grandma Tits" behind his back. His breath was terrible too. When we kissed, it was insanely warm and sweet, like eating a lifesaver that was left under a radiator.

I discussed this incident with a friend of mine who takes delight in my "caustic sense of humor" as my Journalism professor put it. "Corey, it couldn't have been that bad. You're being kinda mean,"' he laughed.

"Hey, I could've told him to buy a bra and a package of breath mints, but I didn't!" I responded.

So, this past weekend, I was off from work. I justified it as a mental health vacation.

My mom called me while I was out Christmas shopping. My shiny, new Blackberry started blaring "TiK ToK" by Ke$ha, causing tweens all around me to dance and adults to groan. I answered the phone, "Hello," as people pushed past me, trying to knock my $300 worth of merchandise out of my arms.

"Coah, what are you doin'?" Lois asked.

"I'm Christmas shopping, what are you doing?"

"I'm at the BAAAAH." Translation: "BAAAAH" is Boston for "bar." "You should come down!"

"Will there be free food?"

"Yeah, Coah! Just come and visit!"

So I went down to the Chinese restaurant/bar and joined my mother and two aunts for a nice dinner. While waiting to be served General Gau's Chicken and "Orangey So-da," my mother noticed a fashion faux pas walk past our table.

Picture this: An older woman, in her 50s, severely overweight, wearing an athletic suit the average Phys. Ed. teacher wears. It did NOT flatter her figure.

Mommie Dearest chose that moment to announce, "Ohhh, no one loves her..."

"Mom!" I snapped. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw the fat woman's friend at their table open her mouth and gasp in horror.

"What, Coah? If someone loved her, they wouldn't let her go out of the house like that."

"Lois, you need to keep your voice down," my aunt Ginny chimed in.

"I could've pointed at her, but I didn't!" Lois justified herself.

My jaw dropped, much like the fat lady's frumpy-looking friend. Apparently our behaviors, as people, are innate. Is there a therapy program for being overly judgmental?