Ugly Swan

The fable of the ugly duckling is fairly well known.  I believe it starts something like a duckling hatches and he's butt fugly, with all his siblings poking fun at his less desirable looks, then grows up to be the most beautiful swan, yadda etc, until someone shoots him and dresses him as Christmas dinner.  At least, that's how it formulated in my head.

I'm pretty sure I'm the Benjamin Button of the ugly duckling story.  That is to say, I was a pretty cute kid.  Then puberty hit (everyone goes through that awkward phase) and I never quite recovered.  Random people scold me, oh you're fine, it's all in your head, you're just as sexy.  I think these people did not have to wake up in the Swift Family Universe of radiant smiles and perfect faces.

Granted, my parents are gorgeous themselves.  It follows that their offspring should be attractive.  And for the most part, the super-genes did their prescribed duty and produced seven Spanish-Italian Stepford descendents.  Some inherited the light eyes or the tow-hair of our Lombardy ancestors from northern Italy.  Others were blessed with the olive Mediterranean tint reminiscent of our Moorish influences.

The two who started it all, Raymundo and Belladonna.  Don't they look great for thirty years of marriage?

I however, ended up with the square Eskimo face, stocky Spanish body, and swarthy Italian hair.  Plus the Japanese love of indoor flip-flops and rice.

Notice the swollen cheeks, squinty eyes and unruly hair follicles.

Here is Joelyanna and Isabella, my two older sisters.  They have modeled print ads for many designers, and Versace designed those dresses himself.  I have never met Versace.  Versace would look at me as either the boy who brings him his self-tanning lotion or a piece of gum he accidentally stepped in.

My oldest brother, Titus.  Blue-green eyes with dark hair.  The bastard can charm the pants off of any lady.

Titus is also the Bruce Banner of our family.  Can benchpress your house.

Victoria is Rillian's mother.  Absolutely stunning.  Words fail to describe her infectious laugh and scathing demeanour.  I believe she is three months pregnant in this photo.  Pregnant women, despair.

Aragon also inherited blue-green eyes like Titus.  His dark hair does a perfect curl when it's longer, not the crazy wave mine does.  He also locked down his beautiful wife, Beatrix, fairly quickly.  I think they will procreate a new superhuman race.

Mariachristina has liquid black eyes and straight Japanese hair, and tans within ten minutes of sunlight exposure.  She was super popular in high school, winning Homecoming Courts and State Track meets alike.  Men and women are constantly performing double-takes when she passes by.

Jacobus was the surprise and baby of the family.  His light brown hair and crooked smile already drive girls wild at school.  I field constant phone calls to the house line for him.  Way to boost my ego, taking phone calls for a brother fourteen years my junior.

I could say that I am the smart one, that I have read more books than the seven combined, that I have set foot in more countries than they have, but what does it matter?  I'm the one pushed to the back of photography pictures, the one forgotten at the house in the flurry of packing and leaving à la Home Alone style, always a groomsman but never a groom.  I've gotten used to the "you're Isabella / Joelyanna / Titus / Victoria / Aragon / Mariachristina / Jacobus' brother?....really?  Are you sure?"

Maybe something happened wrong the night of my conception.  Perhaps there was a gamma ray that accidentally phased through the egg that was to become Orion and altered it a little bit.  Or maybe the stars were in the wrong alignment during my birth.  Could have been that the doctor switched me with another child out there, who is now living his life not part of the gorgeous Swift family.

You know, Kenny De Ketele was born on the SAME DAY as me.  He is good-looking, this might be the mix-up.  He really is Orion Swift and I'm supposed to be with his Belgian family.  In Belgium.  I'm a pauper!

In the words of my mother, "...at least you're somewhat intelligent."

PS:  Here is my nephew Brodyn, thank heavens he has the Swift Genes.  Maybe their is hope for my children.  Probably not, but one can dream.