When I was little, I was really convinced that either my brother or I were adopted.  I’m not sure what prompted this hypothesis, but it was something that I thought about a lot.  I also did some investigative research to determine who was the blood child and who was the adopted one.  Here were my findings:  

1.  My mom, dad, and brother all had short hair.  I had long hair.  

2.  All of my family’s first names have four letters.  Mine has five.  

3.  I liked to eat my apples so that there was a 360 degree ring around the center of the apple made of mini bites while the rest of my family just took big bites without any pattern.  

4.  All other members of my family could burp on command.  I couldn’t.  

So, all the data indicated that I was the adopted child.  I spent a lot of energy being upset about this until around fifth grade when I parlayed that energy into practicing making out with my pillow before I went to bed and forgot all about my adoption theory…until last week when my brother was home and I saw our shoes next to each other.  (Mine is on the right.)  Come on, could I really be blood related to someone with size 13 feet?  Methinks not.  So, I may have to relaunch my investigation from 1990.  Most of the facts remain the same…except for now I can burp on command.  Anyone with any leads, please get in touch.