Recognizing Mini Me

Some things are predetermined by biology. In nature, a mammal’s offspring always look like the father when they are born, so the father will accept them. Humans are not that different… as demonstrated by paternity battles served up daily on Jerry Springer.

When the Biscuit was a baby he looked nothing like me. He was 100 percent his father, which bothered me a bit. I had carried the kid for nine+ months and pushed him out, and he didn’t even look like me.

Had I not been present at his birth I would seriously questioned if he was really mine. He had his dad’s peachy skin, light eyes and Scottish good looks. You’d never even know he was half hispanic.

As the Biscuit grew and changed, familiar characteristics began to show. I’ve been told he’s got my eye-shape and full lips. He’s definitely got my fine hair that tangles into a bird’s nest during sleep, as well as my sensitive pallet and childhood picky eating habits.

His keen sense of humor appeared early on… he would watch the Simpsons as a toddler and laugh at all the right places. We were very pleased. As he’s matured, he’s developed a twisted sense of humor favoring British humor and clever classics like Airplane. His favorite movie right now is Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

With his dad’s affinity for all things tech, the kid can figure out how to use any electronic device without any instruction whatsoever. He also loves science and science fiction which we both follow. The Biscuit’s favorite shows are Nova Science, Dr. Who and Star Trek Next Generation.

He’s not big on following instructions, which he gets from me… I hate using recipes and sewing patterns. From an early age, the Biscuit had a natural talent for art and creativity, something he gets from both of us. We’ve encouraged it by taking him to Burning Man for the past nine years. He’s developed a taste for a wide variety of music ranging from Beatles, to R.E.M. to Chemical Brothers.

At the age of ten, the Biscuit only half-baked so I wonder who he’ll be when he’s done, and if he’ll ever be golden brown. Although he doesn’t really look like me, at least for now I know he’s my kid when I ask him, “What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?” He instinctively answers, “African or European?”