Denying my Maternity

For years I long held the belief that my parents were not my parents. Specifically, I was convinced that I was an alien child -- brought to earth in a pod and stolen by those people I knew as Mom and Dad.

I got over that by about the time I was 15, and realized there was no denying they were to they were, and I was not E.T.

Well, today there was evidence that I may not have been all wrong. At least as far as my mother was concerned. She revealed something to me that made me believe there was NO WAY we could be genetically related.

"I love lunges!"

Are you friggin' kidding me? Who's the alien now? I friggin' loathe lunges! Every morning I hear "snap, crackle, pop," and it's not me cereal talking to me. It's my knees. Whenever I bend them, they talk back to me -- stairs, lunges, bending over, you name it, they bitch. And hurt! With my father going in for a knee replacement soon, I think this is evidence that at least he and I are related. . . .

LUNGES! She could have at least revealed she lived in a Hippie nudist commune in the 1960s, or voted for Gov. Deval Patrick, but not "I love lunges!" What kind of freak is this woman portraying herself as my mother?

A squat I could see, but lunges? They hurt me; I can get down, but getting up is another story. My knees bend, but my muscles don't want to hoist me back up; my lower legs become paralyzed. My legs literally freeze and it is everything I can do right myself. I soldier on, I do them, but one day I will stay frozen in a half-assed genufleciton pose and need to be carried out by the knees by EMTs.

"I love lunges!"

WHO IS THIS WOMAN??????