I'm Not Adopted

My sister called me today while I was in "my office". That's how we both refer to the coffee shop where I start my days, because ... well, I'm there (pretty much) each day. She was updating me on the latest goings-on with her employment (shaky-ish but probably alright ... her company is being purchased by another) and she mentioned that she had a call later in the day with the company doing the buying.

"Hey", I volunteered "if you have to go there in person, give yourself lots of extra time. They've finally begun to close the off-ramp onto the Avenues to start the retrofit so you'll have to find an alternative route ... along with everyone else."

There was silence on her end, but I knew what she was thinking.

I continued. "OK see - there's this thing called the 'Internet' and it was on the top of the electronic page of your local paper ..."

"Oh FINE, ya' wise ass. Geez - figures you'd know that before I would. Oh hey", she said, changing the subject, "I've got good news. The youngest has topped 100 lbs."

It was my turn to be silent. My youngest niece is going to be 3 years old this year, and I haven't seen her for awhile. How could this have happened? Had my sister been force-feeding my niece bacon fat and potato chips by the ton? Would my parents have to get involved? Would child-protective services need to be called?

"The puppy, Smarty Pants, the puppy. Oh sure ya' know traffic patterns across the US but ..."

"Oh thank GOD", I laughed. "I was thinking I'd have to stage a food intervention or something."

We continued to chat and then I looked up and saw a 1936 Ford driving down the street. I mentioned it to her and, where others would say "yeah so?" or "huh", she said "Cool - 3-window or 5?"

And that's when it dawned on me that I'm probably not adopted.