Genes are a funny thing.
If you are unconvinced, let me explain.
I got a holiday card in the mail today from my aunt, uncle and cousins, who live in Texas - by choice. They LIKE Texas. Houston, in fact, which in my experience (I lived there for six years) is the armpit of Texas, which isn't a lovely place to begin with.
Enclosed in this holiday card from loving Lutheran relatives was a picture of all of them on A FAMILY ALLIGATOR HUNTING TRIP. Not kidding. I don't know if they ended up hunting any or not (I certainly hope not), but if I had to watch them try, I'd be rooting for the alligators. (Kidding. Maybe.)
Amazingly enough, my cousin's new wife went on the trip, which was about a month after they got married. Talk about a honeymoon!
How am I related to these people? Do I really share more DNA with them than I do with a banana? How can this be?
I am an agnostic, vegetarian, Native American Irish Jew, and a progressive person who will never set foot in Texas again unless it's a stop on a book tour. (On second thought, if I get anyone to publish my book, maybe I'll create a proviso in the contract that I won't sell it in Texas.)
Yet somehow I have family who are arch-Republican, Lutheran, and whose idea of a good time is a good ol' romp shooting at helpless animals in Louisiana.
Life is strange.