| When I was young I never asked my parents how they made me. Just as well -- they would have been hard pressed explaining something so horrendeous ... irresponsible, unforgivable. I'm talking about conception. It would make any kid upset -- not to mention untrusting of its parents -- to know someting like that. Thanks to science of course we can now answer this qestion with a clean conscience and without shame; and the kids learn to respect their parents and trust their judgement. No recourse to randomness, silverspoons or "such-is-life"-s can justify the state of those unfortunate few. No, they can only blame their parent’s own stupidity.
I feel a lot better about myself than my parents ever could, now that I can tell to my kids that their abilities, looks and intelligence didn't simply come about through some haphazard mix of genes that happened to be in the genepool (for historical reasons) and were randomly selected -- like a lottery drawing -- at the moment of conception. Their lack of myopia, lifetime no-cancer guarantee, beautiful purple eyes and the doubly opposable thumbs on the left hand all speak for the extreme care of a concerned parent who wants nothing but the best for its offspring. That's me. And I take full responsibility.
©1995 K. R. Thórisson |
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Copyright 1995 K.R.Th. All rights reserved.