My kids don't look like me. Thank Effing God.

Do you know what people think when I'm with my kids? They think I’m the F'ing nanny. I shit you not. I’m dark, they’re albino. Their eyes are the color of the ocean, mine are the color of poop. I’m short, and they're short too. Because they're frigging kids. I used to joke that the only thing Zoey got from me was my genitalia, but people would look at me weird so I stopped saying that, especially to nuns.

The truth is, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass if my kids look like me. I know they're mine. I know it every time I look in the goddamn mirror and want to eat my muffin top. But do you know what I really hate? The people who seem to pity me. “Awww, does it bother you that your kids don’t look like you at all?” No, jackass, it doesn’t bother me. At least it didn’t until you made it seem like it should. Do you want to know why it doesn’t bother me? Here are a bunch of pictures to explain to you why I’m insanely happy that my kids look like my husband.


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