Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

Most phone calls from my parents begin the same way.

Mom/Dad, "I have something to tell you."

Me, "The names of my real parents?"

Of course, I know that most children at some time or another believe they are in the wrong family.  They feel different or left out or that these so-called parents just don't recognize their amazing potential quite enough to be the real deal.  But in my case, I have some pretty compelling evidence.

There are no baby pictures of me.  All five of my sisters, yes, but not me.  Now my sainted mother, Virgin Mary II, explains it in the gentle, loving way for which we have come to know her.  She claims there are no pictures to protect me.  She contends I was a hideously ugly baby and they knew I would want no permanent record.  I believe she used the word "revolting".  Bless her heart.  This story is just not credible.  Our family is riddled with hideous babies and we have pictures of them all. 

There is the fact that I don't look like the rest of my siblings.  I give you Exhibits A and B.  You see it, right?  We are all human but beyond that, nothing.

So who are my real parents?  When I was young I read that mothers used to tell their children not to wander for fear they would be stolen by gypsies.  I am pretty sure I was stolen FROM gypsies.  It explains so much.  My love of hoop earrings, camp fires and the name, Esmeralda.  My passion for Cher songs.

I need your help in my search.  I don't think it will be hard to spot them if you keep your eyes open.  You will know them immediately.  They have very short eyelashes.

Exhibit A

Exhibit B