Holy Bowel Movement

The chosen ones….


Or, I don’t give a damn what my adopted son doesn’t tell me, because I already know how he feels.

In my baby book there was a space for my new mom and dad to write their thoughts on adopting me. They both used the phrase “angel sent from Heaven.” I couldn’t look at it without squirming. I couldn’t look at it without crying. Who would give away an angel? It was one of those things that made me feel growing up that I could never merit the love I received, that I had to be better than everyone else at everything, and immediately. Otherwise I was an utter failure, and something terrible would happen to me.

Why wouldn’t I believe that was possible? It had already happened once. Anyway everyone knows angels don’t leave footprints.

The book doesn’t exist anymore. Neither do my original baby footprints. When I was…

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