I don't remember why I was thinking about it exactly but one day I came home from pre-school very excited, telling my mom over and over again "I'm an onion girl! I'm an onion girl!"
"You're a what?!" she asked.
"An onion girl! And you're a peach and Daddy's a chocolate milkshake and Patrick's a chicken wing!"
It was my way of explaining all the different colors of our skin. My mother thought it was very cute and still calls me her little onion girl whenever she's feeling particularly affectionate.
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