Last month,
for Father’s Day, the kids gave St. Bob one of those DNA testing kits that
reveals you are actually your wife's third cousin. Okay, maybe not. But it tells you
the nationalities that make up your ancestry.
He
immediately sent it in, and now we are waiting for the results. I, of course, cannot resist speculating and
if “pirate” or “clown” were actual nationalities I can see a big slice of that
pie chart bearing swords and red noses.
We’ve traced
his genealogy (back to Adam on several lines, actually), and it’s mostly from
the British Isles. But it dips in and
out of Scandinavia, too. His family—many
of whom came to the U.S. in the 16oos before it even was the U.S., also harbors
a rumor that someone was married to a Cherokee woman, so we’re hoping for some
Native American percentage, as well.
Of course I
cannot resist making a game of this, and I invited our kids to join the
guessing game. When the results finally
arrive I plan to gather everyone in a big conference call, the way people in
our church do when someone opens their mission call.
Meanwhile,
they are to send in their guesses. Second son Brandon’s is “1/3 English, 1/6
Scottish, 1/3 Scandinavian, 1/6 French (since Bob is from Louisiana), and the
rest is probably extra terrestrial.”
I texted
right back, “Yes! I’ll bet you anything
he’s an alien from outer space! I may
change my guess to at least half that.”
Brandon said,
“Ha ha, exactly. If the results get
delivered by men in black, you’ll know you were right.”
So stay tuned. Meanwhile, visit my website and watch some of
my YouTube Mom videos or buy my books.
It’s summertime and you need a break!
Nice
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