“So why did you have kids, daddy?”
A few years ago, my middle boy asked me a question about something that was happening in the news. In our discussion of the topic, due to it’s relevance to a particular country with which he shares a genetic relationship, I made the joke
But you wouldn’t know anything about being (ethnicity).
And he looked at me like…”Uh, daddy, what the hell are you talking about.”
“Well, A., you know you’re part (ethnicity), right?”
“Um, no.”
“Okay, you know your mother and I look different?”
“Yes.”
“And everyone in Mummy’s family looks different from everyone in my family?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s because Mummy and Daddy are different races.”
“Oh.”
Bearing in mind that the kid was 10 when we had this conversation, just think about that, it was so normal, so unremarkable that he was mixed race, it never even crossed his mind.
“So why did you have kids, daddy?”
Mostly for indentured servants with a bit of genetic experimentation mixed in.
Of the two bad Daddy jokes I made, THAT was the one he got.
