The eyebrows are exactly the same

She comes into my workspace carrying a portrait of me when I was about two years old, claiming that Adam is the spittin' image of me. I don't see it. She tries to convince me. We debate it for a few minutes. Finally she traces her finger over my eyebrows and then does the same to the photo. 

"See," she says, "the eyebrows are exactly the same." 

"You know why?" I ask.  

"Why?" 

"Because those ARE my eyebrows. This is me, and that's me. You're comparing me to me." 

"Oh ... yeah."