You: Dad, where’s my Lego Creator set?
Me: How should I know? Where’d you use it last?
You: In my room.
Me: Okay, did you look there?
You: Um, no.
Me: Well maybe you should.
Dad, it’s not there.
Then look somewhere else.
I’ve looked everywhere.
I sort of doubt that, because included in the category of everywhere is the place that it actually is.
Well will you help me look for it?
I just sat down.
But daaaaduh, I have to find it and I looked everywhere.
Well, actually you couldn’t have because— aw forget it, I’m coming.
Wow, son, we’ve looked everywhere and it’s just not here.
I told you, Dad.
Did you have another playdate with Timmy. I never did trust that kid. I bet he took it.
Timmy didn’t take it.
How do you know?
He already has 6 of them.
Figures. That kid has 6 of everything. I still don’t know why he took my car keys.
Dad, you found them on the key hook where they belong, remember?
Yeah, that was weird; I don’t get why he’d take my keys and put them there, of all places.
Dad, I really don’t think–
Honey, have you seen our son’s Lego Creator set? We’ve looked everywhere.
Mom: Not likely. If you looked everywhere you would have found it.
You: You know, she has a point there, Dad.
Mom: It’s in his bedroom where he left it.
Me: No it’s not, we just looked in there.
Well I’m looking at it right now.
What? That’s not possible; we both looked in there.
Did you look right in the middle of his desk?
Well, um, yeah. I mean, sure. Duh! Of course we did.
So isn’t this it?
Echem, yes, well, that wasn’t there when we looked.
No of course not, honey.
Damn. I really thought that maybe in this department you managed to get your mom’s genes. The ability to see stuff that’s right in front of me is another one of those traits that I would have passed on to you if I ever had it myself. But I don’t. Never did. And now, apparently, you don’t either.
My folks had it, but that gene obviously got lost in transit between my parents and me. Maybe it was trimmed off during the making of my Y chromosome and now it’s just lying there slowly wilting on the floor.
Or maybe the sperm that won the race to the egg jettisoned that gene to lighten the load — along with the ones for memory, yardwork, girl skills and tallness. I bet if we did the research we’d find that those are the heaviest genes.
It wouldn’t surprise me at all if the sperm that made me cheated to get to the egg first. In fact, it would explain an awful lot. The light genes are probably the ones for stuff like ugly toes, adult acne and aversion to vegetables.
I’m pretty sure I have extras of those.