The other day Mark took a picture of my dad and me.
Here it is. We both have similar noses and eyebrows. And shirts. And possibly wrinkles. Although our hands look similar, I very definitely have my maternal grandmother's hands (as does my cousin, Kevin). My dad works with his hands more than I do, and subsequently probably has stronger ones. I'm trying to decide if we have the same shape to our skulls, but I can't tell with all my hair.
What this photo does not show is that we both have similar voices and a similar sense of humor. When Mark once heard my mom telling a story about one of my dad's joke outfits, he yelled, "Help! It's genetic!" Oh, yeah; my sister says that after that one Fourth of July, we're not allowed to have drinks and then launch into The DeMolay Routine (which invariably devolves into Monty Python skits...).
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