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Even though we don’t particularly look alike, Buddha and I both have dark hair and similarly shaped eyes and mouths and there have been many occasions when we’ve been out that people have just assumed I’m his mother. This secretly thrills me as I would like nothing more than have him be mine. But I always feel incredibly guilty, as though not correcting people’s assumptions is a gross misrepresentation akin to plagiarism. Along with the guilt comes this sense of malayise, something that probably resembles what a kidnapper must feel like whenever they take their victim’s out in public; terror and uncertainty and underneath the abrasive fear, a tiny thrill. Sometimes it’s just easier to let people assume he’s mine rather than to try and explain ourselves but other times I just like to bask in the feeling of joyful pride that comes with being his parent and hearing how absolutely beautiful and charming he is.

What do you bloggers think about the ethics of this? I ask only because I have a rather warped sense of morality. One which allowed me to commit a certain specific but unmentionable felony crime without feeling the least bit of remorse but which also prevents me from ever littering.

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