“Are you trying to tell me that I’m adopted?” Dad threw his head back and laughed. “No, Johnny, you’re one hundred percent the fruit of my loins.” “And my eggs,” Mam offered with a smirk. “You just cost a small fortune to cook up in a lab,” he added, still laughing to himself. “Worth every penny.” Mam winked. “Our little test-tube baby.” What the… “That’s a fucking horrendous thing to tell me,” I choked out, outraged. “You make it sound like they cooked me up in a microwave and sold me down a backstreet alley!”
