I am part squirrel, flying squirrel to be exact. Actually all the women in my family are. I’m not sure when some crazy scientist started messing with the DNA of my family but it had to be at least a few generations ago. All of us have squirrel wings. They begin to appear after a certain age. It’s frightening I tell you. Especially frightening is the fact that the women in my family seem to favor sleeveless fashions – myself included. I’ve decided that instead of try to fight nature I will instead work to cultivate the long lost (by my family) art of gliding from tree to tree. I’m sure it will somehow be a useful skill to have someday. I figure that since I’m 33 now and am at the beginning stages of my wing development by the time I’m retirement age I will have an impressive set of wings and be an expert at gliding from tree to tree. This skill added to the fact that after I retire I plan to become the bearded lady will make me quite famous and a highly sought out carnival performer. Ahh some days it’s nice to know that genetics are on my side as far as the freak factor.
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