How I know I am not adopted--besides the Irish chin and the Italian hips.

Me: We went sledding Saturday.
Mom: You? You went sledding.
Me: I did. I sucked it up, and I decided to just do it. It looked like fun! I mean, everyone else was having fun.
Mom: So how you'd do?
Me: I think it's safe to say that I am not a lover of danger.
Mom: I'd say so.
Me: I am missing the risk gene. I have no need for speed.
Mom: So, no more sledding for you?
Me: WHO WOULD LIKE SLEDDING? You throw yourself down a hill! I have spent my whole life avoiding falling down hills!
Mom: Ookay.
Me: I'm being hurtled down a hill and people are running away! I was inches away from head trauma! I do not understand winter sports.
Mom: As your father says about skiing: you put two sticks on your feet and throw your face in the snow.
Me: Oh, I won't ski. No.
Mom: I think that's for the best.