The Queen, on The Squirrelly: “He has a big nose. He must have gotten yours.”
There’s one reason why cloning will never catch on, right there: the inability to attribute undesirable attributes in your offspring to a mate.
Saturday we went to a reunion for all the parents who were in our childbirth education class. I met ten brand new babies and, bizarrely, was able to remember each and every one of their names. This is very unusual, as I have no head for names at all. In fact, I couldn’t remember the names of any of the parents at the party, and wound up calling them things like “Lucy’s father” and “genetic contributor to Sam.” So if you ever meet me in person and want to make sure I remember your name, try spitting up or pooping in your pants immediately after we shake hands — maybe that will help.
The highlight of the event was a group photo, where all the newborns were shoehorned into a couch and many a snapshot was taken.
The Squirrely is second from the left, showing off his tie-dyed socks and his preternatural ability to slouch.
It’s probably best that no one overheard me tell The Queen that it looked like “a dingo buffet.”