Is it inherited?

I took these pictures of Margaret this morning while she sat at my desk waiting for me to take her to school.
She took her time, carefully creating a drawing of her teacher and herself in a field of poppies.
She was polite when my friendly co-workers said hello. This is a big deal in that Margaret tends to get shy (I know the suggestion that my kid is shy seems laughable to those who know her, but unfamiliar surroundings, she does tend to clam up) sometimes and I've been constantly reminding her that being polite must preempt her shyness.
She ate her breakfast of a donut accompanied by orange juice (the breakfast of champions, no?) and then I took her to school, pleased that she had behaved.

When I got back to my desk, I downloaded the photos of her and found that I had taken a picture last night:It's a picture of the scorecards my dear friend, Trae-trae and I use to play a game while we watch Survivor.

Yes, Tracee and I invented a game that goes with a TV show. I wish there was some way that I could make that sound less dorky.

Last evening when I called Tracee to confirm our weekly Survivor date, her husband handed her the phone and said, "It's your Survivor dork."

I can't even protest, because it is dorky. But it's been fun and we enjoy it, so there (accompanied by a petulant foot stamp).

Even though, I realize that it will raise me up a couple rungs on the dorkitude ladder, I have to boast that I made an amazing comeback last night. We had been holding steady at 8 for Tracee and 2 for me. Then I scored 5 points last night to Tracee's 2. We're at 10 for Tracee and 7 for me.

And we even have an immunity idol that the overall points leader gets to keep.

Oop, that really tipped the scales of dorkdom, didn't it? Poor Margaret has little chance of living a dorkfree life.

Especially when you dad looks like this: