Jane, you've no doubt noticed, has a good, thick head of black hair. So did her mother. And apparently her grandmother as well.
Is Jane the Esau to Sam's Jacob? Probably not. She's got blonde eyebrows, and so I expect, just like later pictures of her mom evidence, a little towhead to emerge from under that Sid Vicious hairdo. And to be honest, I'm just glad she's got hair. From what I can tell from the pictures, I had the G. Gordon Liddy look for almost a year and a half. Not such a big deal for a little boy, but I can picture Vicki taping barrettes to poor Jane's melon. So we dodged that bullet.
Anyway, yesterday a colleague joked that Jane must be the mailman's child because of the dark hair.
Hilarious.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a cuckold joke as much as the next guy with a two-week-old baby.
What made the joke funny to me is that our "mailman" is a 225-lb black lady with cornrows.
Samson's protestations to the contrary, I'm pretty sure she didn't have anything to do with it.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
About Me
- dada
- Call me dada. This has, in the few months since my son started "talking," become my name. I'm sure (at least I hope) it will eventually morph into something less early 20th century art movementy --- but I am marked forever as dada. And this is a good thing. I have no real advice to offer, other than always carry Cheerios and extra onesies, and I don't really have a lot of 'wacky' adventures to regale you with. Truth be told, this is as much for me as it is for you. So, uh, thanks for stopping by. I hope it's at least an interesting time-killer. And if not, consider this an ironic exercise in skewering the bourgeouis notions of 21st century American parenthood by deconstructing the materialist ethos that has turned childhood into a demographic and rendered adults simultaneous enablers and slaves. Or something.
No comments:
Post a Comment