As we've already established, D is very interested in his ancestry. A week or so before Thanksgiving, we all sat down to eat dinner together. D cupped his hands together in a pleading manner and said, "Please, please, please, tell me I'm half Indian, mommy. Please!" Clearly, D is quite taken with all the Native American history he's currently learning in school. He's entranced by it, so I proceeded to crush his little heart and stomp it just a bit by telling him that he's unfortunately not half Indian. "Well, then what am I?", he asks, apparently his glee from finding out he's African a few months ago already forgotten. So I proceed to tell him...again.
Me: You're 1/4 Dutch...
D doing a fist pump: Yesssss!
Me: You're 1/8 Finnish....
D doing a fist pump: Wait, what's a Finnish?
Me: You're 1/2 African....
D doing a fist pump: AFRICAN! Yesssss!
D: That's from dad. Right mom, right? Don't they live in Africa? Are Africans from Africa?
Perhaps he can't remember because the excitement of it all is causing so much blood to rush to his brain that it's giving him little mini strokes, it's like excitement amnesia. Either that or he forgets purposely so that he can get all excited about it again, he's addicted to the excitement of ancestry. .......Well, who wouldn't be?
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