Her parents had twelve children.
Most were adopted. And by most, she meant she was their only biological child. Yet somehow, she resembled her parents the least. The only blonde among the brunettes, the only O blood type among the As and Bs, the only one without a widow’s peak…
With her family structure, she’d grown up assuming she was adopted the same way most people assumed they weren’t. It was only after her parents showed her the video of her birth that she believed them when they told her she was their flesh and blood.
“But why do I look so different?” she asked.
“Recessive genes. You just happen to have a lot of them. And it’s not true that you don’t look like us. You’re just not looking at the right spots.” Her mother bopped her on the nose. “We have the same schnoz.”
“The same smile.” Her father grinned.
“Grandma’s wavy hair.”
“Granpa’s tiny toes.”
A weight dropped across her shoulders as her older brother chimed in. “And you all scrunch your nose the same way when you smell baked beans. I’ve never seen anyone else do it so you’re their kid alright.”
“Is that enough proof for you?” her mother asked.
She snuggled into her father’s side until only a single shy eye peeked out. “I’ll believe you more if you make earl grey panna cotta.”
“And that’s your aunt’s bargaining style right there.” A large hand patted her head as they chuckled. “Alright. If we start now, it’ll be ready in time for dinner.”
Genre: family, slice of life
September post count: 2/12