Game of Clones

Game of Clones


Happy Father’s Day, Husband! I got you a clone.

Seriously, what is this phenomenon of babies coming out as exact duplicates of their dads? Don’t we moms deserve at least a slight resemblance to reward us for the physical torment it took to bring these clones from the other world?

Just take a look at this…


It’s as though Adam Sandler is an asexual plant and he just reproduced with himself.

How about this…


Meet Bradette. No blood work needed here.

When my own son was born, he was also a carbon copy of his father. You wouldn’t know I had anything to do with the process. Good thing I obsessively documented my basketball stomach as it grew. Oh…that and the fact that I endured endless hours of excruciating labour before birthing my husband’s clone in front of a room full of witnesses. Otherwise you’d never know my baby was half mine.

But this game of clones got me curious, so I decided to do some research. And by research, I mean I googled it. Apparently, babies look like their fathers in order to prove paternity. Because we moms are that sketchy, evolution had to jump in and back us up. What ever happened to Brownies’ honour?

Anyway, Dads of the world, next year when you think it’s a good idea to innocently ask for a gift on Father’s Day-maybe a little beef jerky or a case of beer…the answer is no. We already got you your own clone. What more do you want?



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