What’s a Wild Boomba?

Five years ago today I published my very first blog post. I decided to re-post it as a way to celebrate. Thanks for reading, “liking”, and all the comments, and “follows”. I am so happy to be doing what I love to do,
~ Leslie

Tales of Wild Boomba

I guess I am a Wild Boomba. At least that’s what my sister, Beth, and my brother, Paul, used to call me. My parents called me that, too.

I always thought it had something to do with my dark, coarse, kinky hair. But Paul recently told me it was because of my total “caveman-like” appearance as a child. I didn’t ask him if he still thought I looked like a caveman, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just really didn’t want to know.

My much, much older sister and older brother were born fair-skinned, blond children. By the time my parents’ DNA got to me, it had somehow mutated and my mother tells me, yes, she tells me, she thought they brought her the wrong baby girl after I was delivered. She was sure I belonged to a different family. Perhaps even a different genus.

My sister’s hair…

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