Handbags and genetic heritage

I have often wondered if I genetically really am a child of my parents. I have absolutely nothing in common with them, or at least very few things that can also be plain accidental. I might have inherited my dad’s passion for books and driving fast, but nothing at all from my mom. Or… the content of the handbag maybe?

My mom’s handbag contains everything a woman will ever need. Or in general anything anyone including aliens and Tom Cruise would ever need. If she was driving a late night in the desert searching for a place to sleep, well, she could just stop and build a cottage herself with the content of her handbag.

My handbag wasn’t like that for 20 years ago; it has grown considerably during the years. In fact in my early twenties I guess I didn’t even bring a handbag along. When I went out Friday night, I probably only carried around my keys (on a request of my neighbors who didn’t like to be woken up at 03.00 am because I didn’t have my keys with me), a condom and a lip gloss on my pocket. If I was on my feministic mood (in the beginning of the month), I also took a little bit money with me, in the end of the month I was very susceptible for offered drinks instead.

So what went wrong? Why is my handbag now the size of my daughter and weighing 20 kilos? Am I becoming my mom? Her handbag is also the size of her daughter (me) and weighing 150 kilos.