I’m adopted.

My adoptive parents had made an agreement to never tell me.

So, in science class, we were studying genetics. As a real-life example, we were asked to get our parent’s blood types as a homework assignment.

My mom was type B, and my dad was type AB.

So in school, after everyone had gotten their parents blood types, we are doing an experiment. We’re testing our own blood to get our blood types, and then using that to help prove how genetics work.

I don’t know how much you know about blood types and genetics… so…. a little genetics lesson here…

My dad, being type AB, could only pass on either the A or the B trait to me.

My mom, being type B, could have been either BB or BO (O being an absence of any A/B trait).

So I could only end up being either an AB, BB, AO, or BO.

When I did the test, i came up as type O. Which simply isn’t possible with an AB parent. Certain I did the test wrong…. I did it again. Same result. Did it again, same result.

I called the teacher over. I only told him that I thought I might be doing something wrong, would he watch me to make sure I was doing it right?

I did the test again with the teacher watching. He confirmed I had done it correctly. So then I said… I thought you can’t get an O result if you have an AB parent? And he was “right, you can’t”.

Ok… well. I’m type O. And my dad is type AB. And I looked at him.

Thinking back now, to that day…. I’m sure all kinds of “oh shits” was crossing that teacher’s mind. But he tried to salvage it with… “Did your parents ever mention anything about adoption to you?”

I stared at him… and said No.

His internal “oh shits” were probably ratcheting up to something much worse… but he simply said “You might want to have a talk with your parents” and he turned away, leaving me to stew all damn day long with the revelation that at the very least, I was not my dad’s biological child.

At home… i confronted my parents, telling them the results of the testing.

My mom was LIVID. Like bat-shit, ready to froth-at-the-mouth furious. She tried to tell me that I must have done the test wrong. No, I didn’t. Then she told me genetics wasn’t a real science. No, it is. Then it was that I was insane, or stupid, and then she demanded to know my teacher’s name so she could get him fired. I refused to tell her, and her anger ratched up a notch, because now I was being disloyal and taking the teacher’s side against her. I finally had to get super-rude and say, look, I get it, I’m not dad’s kid, but I’m either adopted or you did “it” with someone else, so which is it? Yep, I had to end up accusing my mother of adultery and even then, she wasn’t going to tell me the truth. But accusing her of adultery was enough for my dad to finally intervene and tell me that I was adopted. At which point, man, my mom reminded me of a rabid dog that was about to have a stroke, and she turned on my dad, screaming at the top of her lungs at him, saying he’d broken his promise, they were never going to tell about the adoption, etc. I mean, man, she was screeching and had pretty much gone bat-shit crazy.

Seriously, for whatever reason, she would rather have me think she might have had an affair ending up with me, rather than have me know I was adopted. How nuts is that?

Anyhow, after that, she said they’d thrown out pretty much all the paperwork about the adoption, because I was supposed to never know.

And she still wanted that teacher fired. I never told her his name either, although, seriously, how difficult would it have been for her to call my school and ask who the science teacher was? Or to look at my next report card and notice the teacher’s name?