The Blog of Eugenia V. Watson, The Sausage King of Chicago

If there are two people in my family who are alike, it is not me and my mother, or me and my father, or my father and mother. It is my mother and Sherlock. Which, I admit, is weird, and brings up suspicions about what my dad found attractive about her to begin with. They are both tall and willowy in a fashion-model sort of way, dress impeccably, and are analytical to the point of driving a person crazy.

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