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Who’s my daddy?

I grew up with a father. I met my father’s brother once and went to a family gathering on that side of the family also only once. Is this a broken family or a family so tied together that distance and loyalty trumps togetherness?


I was always told that my father’s side of the family was made up of politicians, criminals, and child molesters. In assumption, I always believed that I was kept away for my own protection.


I know several things to be true.

1. My father was told he could never have children after being diagnosed with a form of leukemia.

2. I was always referred to as the miracle child.

3. My father never molested me, but was the first person to tell me about strip clubs and paying women to dance naked.

4. I have brown eyes. I know no family member except for myself with brown eyes.

5. My father abandoned me twice as an adult due to my choices that went against his religious views.


Is it crazy to now conclude that based on given facts, they were actually subtle hints to my true origin: adoption. Possibly, my real father was a politician or being groomed for the role. My real mother, a stripper. A sealed adoption within a family to protect the family name. Papers forged. Is it that far off for a political family to participate in criminal activity? Louisiana was built upon this, look at the great Edwin Edwards! Of course, this is all hearsay and fantasy of Cajun, Catholic Country. What politician are you going to catch hanging around a strip club? None, right?


If you have any tips as to who my real father is, you may submit them anonymously in the comment section below. This is Louisiana history!


Xoxo, Yetti

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