Over the long Martin Luther King holiday weekend I got involved in the ’23 and Me’ questionnaire. What is 23 and Me? Well if you live under a rock I guess you need explaining. This is one of those ancestry DNA businesses that checks your DNA to tell you more about yourself. It is a high class in-depth look at “who’s your daddy” like on the Maury Show, but without the fist punching, hair pulling and name calling. Instead, you spit into a tube and mail it off to get some results uploaded to a database that you can search. It can tell you about your ancestors, genetic health issues and much more.
The only reason I took the DNA test was for my kid. He wanted to know more about my ancestors that I just don’t know or have any way of searching. I guess I could have went to the library and search records. I tried once. I know that my family did come over before the American Revolution. The issue I have is that is too hard. Most of the papers are handwritten in cursive. I am like, “wow!” Look at all the loops and swirls. It was just way too confusing. This way was a whole lot simpler, and maybe is was also to fulfill my childhood fantasy to see if some how I was swapped out or exchanged as a baby. LOL
My whole miserable childhood I would dream that someday someone would pull up in a limousine up to our farm house and claim me. They would apologize for the hospital switching me at birth. Then whisk me away to live in some fairy tale mansion. I didn’t even care if they were ugly. LOL I know that sounds petty, but believe me in the school I grew up in the last thing you wanted was ugly parents.
Now, as an adult I thought 23 and Me might explain why I just don’t fit into the puzzle piece of my family. You know, I was the weird temperamental fat child. No one likes or has time for that; except grandma, she was a Saint. Yep, damn right I was fat I even wore those “Husky Jeans.” The label was even printed on the top of my tail pocket. I could not even hide the fact that my jeans were made for chubby kids. I used to complain about it, but then adults would say, “don’t like wearing Huskies, go on a diet.” Kids today have no idea what being chubby is since all the labels are now sewed in on the inside. Jeans were my enemy then and I was their bitch. I guess that is why I still absolutely hate to wear jeans.
My reply to anything and adult said to me was pretty much, “I hate you.” Which really meant F you. You know how some kids like to say, “no?” Well, my favorite saying was “I hate you.” Then I would go minutes, days or hours without talking to you, which was kind of nice for adults except when they need to know something. I would just stare blank into their eyes like they were an idiot and say nothing. I guess I was a lot like Klink, Sergeant Schultz, in Hogan’s Heroes, before I even knew who that was too. “I know nothing!”
My 23 and Me report is soon going to be ready and I am super excited and a little nervous. I just want the Queen of England, Switzerland or where ever to know that I totally understand that hospitals make mistakes. I can not wait to be family again. I already have my announcement party plans in the works. I am thinking a flower wall, a large tier cake, maybe some lobster rolls, Jimmy Buffett for entertainment. I don’t want anything too big, ok if you insist I will do a royal parade. LOL
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