When my daughter was little, she went to preschool once a week. Her brother, who was older, went three times a week. Every time we went to preschool, she would run get her lunchbox. Even on the days her lunchbox was empty because we were just dropping her brother off. She would be so cute, walking on her little chubby legs, carrying her Barney lunchbox into the preschool….and right back out to the car and home again. I took her to the same preschool until she went to kindergarten. One day when she was four, my husband was off work and actually went into the preschool to pick her up. The next time I saw the preschool director, she said, “NOW I know who your daughter looks like!”
Yes, apparently they thought she’d been adopted all that time. My daughter looks NOTHING like me. She is also very outgoing. She never meets a stranger. (Which is a little scary.) I was a very shy little girl, so her bold nature is just one of the things that took me by surprise in raising her. She’s athletic and confident and just about everything I was NOT as a child.
Yesterday I discovered they’d put her in the gifted math class at school. ::thunk::
That’s it. I’ve been gathering evidence for years, and that’s the final clue.
She is not my child.
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