I dunno why, but I’m feeling like grasping on to my adoptive families and wishing for the gamble of their tumbled-up master chromosomes. I could handle being a red-headed Jewish Shikse, or a Southern traitor’s scallawag. I just wonder what’s in store for my family full of Nordic-plus-Irish-blooded-weirdoes.
Or, take a look at my chromasome-divergent extremeties (ie, my hands) and tell me what my fate is. Here they are, wishing they were Lebanese (making Chicken Chawarma).
