Earlier this week, an old classmate of mine remarked that she can see both me and S in our son. My response? “I know. Weird, right?”
But it isn’t weird if you think about it. I remember when I was a kid and I spent several nights in a row at my friend’s house. I can home with a little bit of her attitude and her jeans, bedazzled on the butt. Even now, if I spend too long talking to someone from England, by the end of the conversation, I might sound like we were raised in the same family.
Of course people see both me and S in our boy. He spends most of his time with me (nurture) and he shares DNA with her (nature). He picks up on my accent, so to speak. He even often looks like me. Same killer sense of style, same swagger. Ok, I don’t really have a swagger anymore. I left in in 1999. But you get my point.
So, next time someone says that he favors both of us, I think my response will be, “I know. Cool, right?” Nothing weird about it.