I’m so nervous. Oh my God. Breathe Lydia. Inhale. Exhale. Am I sweating? How’s My hair? God damn it Pequena, get out of my way. Shit, no no Pequa! Come back! I’m sorry, oh wait, she can’t read my mind. Lalalalalalaa. Nope. Still nervous. Well shit, let’s just sit here and- Oh hey P, thanks for forgiving me!..... Bitch. Oh I hear a truck, omg omg omg omg. Why am I thinking in text form? Okay okay. Let’s go.
Walking outside, I shield my face from the sunlight as my little dog Pequa rushes past me to greet our guests along with my mom and sister Emma. I shyly walk up to the younger girl and look down at her. She stands about 5 ft. and has shoulder length brown hair, with a big grin on her face as I stoop to hug her. My mind still races.
Shouldn’t you be taller if you are older than me? Oh wait, I’m really tall. #adoptionprobs Thanks Clarence, it’s real good for sports, but not when you are meeting new people. I resist the temptation to roll my eyes at my thoughts, and quietly murmur hello. I move on to the older one who is at least 15 years younger than my mother, but still old enough. She was around 5’7 a little taller than emma. Her hair is curly and goes down to her bottom. I watch as she flicks a cigarette away and put her hand on my face. I redden at the touch, and resist the urge to flinch. I don’t think I am doing a good job of not shaking as I walk into her embrace.
Holy shit. This is weird. WEIRD. WEIRD. DANGER. DANGER. WEIRD.
What do I say. Hi mom, last time you saw me I was coming out of you? Lydia stop. That’s inappropriate.
I look around at Mandy and Devin, my 38 and 20 year old birth mother and sister. I sighed because I had opened a whole new can of worms. However, I don’t think I will regret it.
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