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Genetic Monsters

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My father and my mother created genetic monsters. At least, that is what my brother and I call them. As if they are not disgusting already, we have it the worst.

Embarrassment floods the room if the socks have to be removed. The pinky toes are curved in like 90 degree turns. Our three middle toes are the same length. They are baby carrots. Baby carrots connected to my legs. And those baby carrots do not listen when I try to shove them into peep toe heels.How embarrassing to show our feet. The big toe should be the largest, right? It is not. It is the shortest. Well, as short as the 90 degree turned in pinky toe. None the less, they still give us impeccable balance.

Baby Mackenzie is a month old. My brother calls me and says, “We are doomed! She has the toes.” My father and mother laugh because they created a genetic monster. My brother and I see Mackenzie’s feet as cute. Embarrassment molded into a traditional bond.





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