When I was a preteen (many moons ago) I found a picture. I took it to my dad to ask about it. There was a nun on one side of a barred window. On the other side was an old man and a young girl about my age. I recognized the young girl...it was my sister.
I went to ask my dad, who is the old man with my sister and why is this nun in jail. Before I asked, he looked at the picture and asked me "when did you meet your grandfather?" I never met him, he may have been dead before I was born....we argued about who the young girl was. My mom walked in, swore at us in French and said it was a picture of HER, and her dad, visiting her oldest sister at the convent.
Now, a picture of my youngest son could easily be mistaken for a picture of me at his age. (Except his skin is clearer.
I went to ask my dad, who is the old man with my sister and why is this nun in jail. Before I asked, he looked at the picture and asked me "when did you meet your grandfather?" I never met him, he may have been dead before I was born....we argued about who the young girl was. My mom walked in, swore at us in French and said it was a picture of HER, and her dad, visiting her oldest sister at the convent.
Now, a picture of my youngest son could easily be mistaken for a picture of me at his age. (Except his skin is clearer.