The Thought Process

“You know, Mr. V is basically related to me.”

I looked at my son, sprawled on his back in the hallway at school after the crowds had thinned out.

“Mr. V isn’t related to you.”

“Basically he is.”

“He’s your godfather. That doesn’t make him related to you.”

“It really does though, because everyone is related to each other.”

“That’s true…”

“So basically every time you marry someone, you’re marrying someone related to you… Except for at Babel when everyone went crazy and started speaking different languages. Otherwise we’d all be speaking English or something.”

“Probably not English.”

“Yeah, I mean Hebrew.”