Last week I had a sinus infection which required a trip to the doctor to get some meds.

Honestly, I could have skipped the doctor, I just needed the z-pack.

My doctor was out for the week so I saw the visiting doctor.

As she was going through my file she said, “So you are writing an autobiography? Have you had an interesting life?”

What? Ah, must be wrong file.

“It says something about an adoption?”

“Ohhhhh, yes. I had to write an autobiography for the home study. No, I’m not publishing anything.”

“You have your own kids and now you are adopting? You are just like Angelina Jolie.”

Actually I could see her point. We have lips, we have breasts, we have legs, …really the comparisons could go on and on.

Except that it kind of bugged me.

We not adopting because we want to be like Angelina and Brad, we’re doing it because we have room in our hearts for another child. And I’m not so sure it’s good that everyone’s first reference for adopting should be Angelina. Maybe it should be your neighbor or friends, someone you see at your child’s school so that it doesn’t seem so strange or different to adopt.

“You are just like Angelina Jolie.”

Ridiculous.