I'll never forget the day I discovered that I look just like Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London. We were on an escalator, descending into a London Underground station, and along the wall was a stream of posters that included extreme close ups of the mayor. Not knowing who he was at that point, I became distracted and curious, wondering, "what's up with this big line of mirrors?"

When I realized that I wasn't passing my reflections, but photos of Mayor Johnson, I did a semi-black-out. Then, while I pulled myself together, I considered not mentioning the phenomenon to Bo and the girls, because I feared teasing from them down the line. But I'm too much of an extrovert to keep something big like this bottled up, so I pointed to the the male-me images as we glided by each one. "You guys," I said. "You're gonna to think I'm crazy, but I'm telling you that I look exactly like the Mayor of London."

Greta reached over and put her hand on my arm. "You're wrong Mom," she said. "I don't think you're crazy."

Guess which guy is me.