I firmly believe that Facebook is the digital version of a hellmouth, but sometimes it's someone else's version of the entrance to hell rather than mine.
I kind of love when that happens.
Which is all to say, I happened to click over at the exact right moment to catch the husband's worst nightmare coming true. A couple of old photos that included him were just sitting there, inviting me to mock them. So I did. Of course.
Along with the mocking came a moment when I thought I should share the joy. I summoned Alexis over, pointed to my screen, and said, "Hey. Look at that."
She looked then broke out in a grin. "Why haven't I ever seen that picture of me before?" she said.
"That's not you," I replied.
"Yes, it is," she said.
The conversation quickly turned into a tennis match with the kid repeatedly insisting that she was the little kid in the photo and with me proving that IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE THAT IT WAS HER. I pointed out her grandma in the picture, which did nothing to convince her because she didn't believe me that she was looking at her grandma.
Which, fine. Grandpa, then. Let's discuss grandpa.
She agreed that it was him in the photograph, but "he's really super young" in it. The kid has a 100% in math right now, but apparently she still can't figure out some basic addition. If Grandpa was young, she had to be negative young, right?
She didn't believe it.
It took most of the evening for Alexis to figure out that she was looking at someone else who happens to live in this house and not herself. When it finally dawned on her what was happening, her little brain exploded.
A clone. That's what she is.
For the record, Alexis was far from thrilled when I told her she would look just as much like her dad when she's 40 as she did when she was 3.