Twisted DNA

Only a few things are certain in life such as death, taxes and the following chain of inevitability. You inevitably have friends. They inevitably get married. They will inevitably have a kid. You will inevitably receive an email from the kid! The email contains something like, “Hai TD uncle. I am already two days old. Visit my website at http://www.kids-name.com.”

I have been a recent recipient of such exciting email. I had no choice but to visit the site. I didn’t even know it was physically possible to take so many pictures in 3 days. And there it was, the link I dread… “Sign my guestbook.” These days your affection is judged by the saccharinity of your guestbook entry.

I was about to grit my teeth and sign the guestbook when I realized that, to sign the guestbook you have to answer the poll question, “Who do I look like: my mom, my dad, both” How can you tell anything about a kid that young! I wish there was an option: “I will reserve my comments until you are completely out of the womb.”

In an ill conceived fit of rebelliousness, I decided to break all rules and not enter a guestbook message. Instead, I sent an email to the kid (kidsname@hotmail.com), and said something like: “Hey, nice pictures. We are so glad for you and your parents. Hope to see you in person soon.”

A few days later, I found out that I would have been better off entering the guestbook message. Apparently, my friend unilaterally assumed that I was incapable of figuring out how to enter a guestbook message and have insufficient linguistic skills to put my abundant love into words. So he, very kindly, paraphrased my email and entered it into the guestbook for me. Something like: “Hey dude. You are so cute! I love your pictures. I am so glad for your parents and their bundle of joy. I can’t wait to see you. Lots of love and kisses, TD uncle.”

So I learned the lesson. Next time I will enter a goddamn guestbook entry oozing of sufficient cuteness and save myself the embarrassment of having attributed to mushy comments.