In search of an inner Neanderthal

There had to be some kind of genetic explanation for my husband's atrocious table manners. It would just take a DNA test kit and some saliva to find it.

A cave man.
(Image credit: 1971yes/iStock)

Excerpted from an article that originally appeared in Longreads.com. Reprinted with permission.

A couple of years ago I purchased a pair of 23andMe kits for myself and my husband, Tomer. I intended to scientifically prove that Tomer's most irritating behaviors were genetic destiny and therefore unchangeable. I'd grown tired of nagging him — oftentimes, I'd hear my own voice rattling inside my brain in the same way a popular song might get stuck in my head. I needed an out, something to push me toward unconditional acceptance of my husband.

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