All the things redheads *can’t* do.

So I became a redhead this weekend. Yes, I know. I look just like my mother. But I like it. And for now, at least, my mother is in another state so there’s that.

But I’ve realized since getting this new hair color… that my mother is living a lie. Some things… Some things do not just come with the territory of having red hair.

For instance. I do not now have the ability to know trivia facts about literally everything that’s ever existed. I am still very much in the dark about things like malpractice insurance and balloon making. When my hair became red, I was not instantly blessed with omniscience.

Also, I do not have the ability talk to anyone and everyone about anything and everything. My mother could like, make conversation with the spider she’s about to smoosh if they were standing in line together at Walmart. (I still don’t hate Walmart like my mom does, but I’m okay with that.)

And I haven’t tried yet, but my guess is that I still cannot effectively slice apples. I just… I’m still a little too obtuse for that.

Apparently, red-headed me is basically just… me, only more and less natural at the same time. (Think about it. It will come to you.)

So thanks a lot, mom, for getting my hopes up or whatever. I’m gonna go back to being normal.

That is all.

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