My mom and my sister look alike. They both have complexions with hues other than red. My sister and I used to look alike. People would ask if we were twins. Then she grew up and started to look like mom. Amber told me that I only look like mom when neither her or I are wearing makeup. Ouch.
A bum pointed out to us that I am much paler than them. Thanks bum, I know. And that’s why I didn’t give him sixty cents.
There’s always that one person: in every family, the one that never did quite fit in. Being different isn’t all bad: for all I know, the one with the great hair and the one with the better tan are envying the awkward girl with the great height.