Women never wonder if the kid at the door with the flat top, broad shoulders and twinkly eyes might be a long lost son for obvious reasons but that is not always true for us men.
I know a story or two about women who have given up a baby for adoption, including my own family but I also know a couple of stories about men who discovered they have children they never knew about.
With the prevalence of home DNA testing kits some of these stories are becoming more common as are the tales about people discovering they have a brother/sister they didn’t grow up with and may not have known about.
My soon to be 17 year-old daughter and I had a conversation a while back in which I provided counseling about being careful and being smart in all situations.
She thought some of it is unfair and she is correct, it is. Boys can walk away from situations and leave you hanging and you cannot rely solely upon them being a gentleman or doing the right thing.
It is an awkward but necessary conversation. I don’t want to scare her but I want her to keep her eyes opened.
She didn’t ask if she has any siblings she doesn’t know about I didn’t volunteer anything because she doesn’t need all of the details of my single life.
The Hair On My Neck
Don’t know if the full moon, too much matza or something else made the hair on the back of my neck stand up but damn if I didn’t feel like something had ruffled my fur.
Spent a chunk of time trying to decipher it today and went down the checklist of possibilities.
- Wrote one hell of an honest letter.
- Work stuff.
- The alien that tried to crawl out of my stomach.
- The ghost and the possession.
Don’t believe it is the first because it is tied to a series of recent letters and I am pretty damn certain/confident about some things, but one needs to be thorough.
The second is unlikely, though there is quite a bit going on and I still didn’t manage to totally check out during this last vacation. Good thing I have a chunk more of time.
That alien and I have done battle all day. I hopped in the car and drove around for a couple of hours just to get some air and dared him to face me in person but that fucker never did try.
Bastard.
The ghost and the possession is a longer tale and I won’t divulge all of it here but damn if I didn’t feel like I could hear teenage self yelling at me. That was weird and proof that I am exceptionally tolerant or there would have been consequences.
So I am not sure exactly what it is, but I know it is something. Maybe it is one of those times I ought to take Kipling to heart.
Got to think about it, so maybe I’ll check out and hit the treadmill and consider.
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