More Than I wanted to Know

My ancestry on my mother's side of the family is well documented.  My family has been in America for a very long time.  In fact, research shows that a family member came over with the second wave of pilgrims, after the Mayflower.  I know that a multiple great grandmother was a Shawnee Indian, but she was only noted as "a squaw" with no name given.  Many in my line fought in the Revolutionary War, the Civil War and other wars after that.  I am quite proud of my heritage.

On the father's side of the family, we know that there's a good share of German in there as Casper Wilhelm Von Knecht came from that far off land.

But I like those commercials that connect you with all sorts of information and give you names of family members that are out there waiting to meet you.  Unfortunately, I didn't salivate in a tube that gives you leaves of information on the computer.  I went with the one that gave me ridiculously vague information.  It pretty much confirmed things, but gave me a more general connection with the European continent.  I liked that.  It made me feel a bit more refined -- fancy even.

Then I turned to the page that you see above.  It gives my Neanderthal variant.  Who wants to know what there Neanderthal number is and that they are in the 56th percentile.  Not me.  So much for feeling fancy.  Indicators include that of having  straight hair that doesn't curl easily.  Yep, that's me.  The list also included heavy back hair.  Fortunately that genetic trait missed me, but my Daddy didn't.  He was a bear.  So my Neanderthal-ness is well represented. 

I was really embarrassed.  Should I start a support group?   Should I delete said information? How do I balance that information and still feel like a civilized, well educated woman of this century? Do I need to buy a club for a fashion accessory?

Maybe I can't.  I confessed this to my hairdresser, primarily because I'm too primitive to have a therapist.  I thought if I could just admit this major flaw in my genetic code, I could deal with it better.  Admitting the problem is the first step, right?

We laughed about it.  Then she gave me a whole new outlook.  This could be manipulated to explain every weakness and failing, every mistake and failure I've ever had. "Why can't you be better at math, Karen?" My highly plausible response could be, "Well, you know, we Neanderthals are not good with digits. Can't help it."

Then I realized that for my whole lifetime I could have had this information at my disposal! What a valuable statistic I have in my arsenal.  This is working for me now.

There may be numerous mistakes in spelling, grammar and syntax, but I feel a need to remind you that we Neanders just aren't so good at this stuff.  That is just how I roll.