- My mother has the fat gene; I have the fat gene.
My mother has beautiful, big eyes; I have beautiful, big eyes.
My mother has a high I.Q.; I have a high I.Q.
My mother has a variety of undiagnosed chemical disorders she won't acknowledge; I have a variety of chemical disorders.
My mother began smoking at a young age; I stopped smoking at a young age.
My mother slept with my father; I almost did, too.
My mother attracted every asshole between here and Mississippi and had children with them; I attracted all the assholes between here and Mississippi she missed and had children with one of them.
My mother is a mean, nasty, ball busting bitch who shuns authority and can't figure out why she can't keep a job; I am a mean, nasty, ball busting bitch who shuns authority and knows damn well why they don't like me.
My mother was maybe the second worst mother of all time; I would have been the third had I not had her illustrious example to watch and learn from.
Something else my mother and I share are beautiful, healthy, full heads of hair. HERS however has begun thinning. As if she hadn't already done enough for me, right? The only things my sister inherited from my mother are smarts, beauty, an inexplicable love for really stupid, old movies and a pathological inability to keep her opinion to herself. What do you think the chances are that those in charge of the Cosmic Laugh Factory will just let my sister inherit the thinning hair gene?
Probably pretty small. The way I see it, inheriting all this shit from my mother balances out the one other thing I just remembered my sister inherited: my mother. I may have heavy thighs, big eyes and a lot of smarts, but my sister has to live with her, and I don't. I figure that alone is worth going bald for, as long as it doesn't happen until I am around sixty five or so when it won't look out of the ordinary at all for me to be wearing a wig. Most old ladies wear wigs or have thinning hair, right? Except for the ones who take after their fathers.
