My father has always been a brilliant story-teller. He can make the most inane tales sound believable. And as a kid, I believed almost everything he told me…

Once when I was little, my Dad told me the story of how God finds the right parents for every kid:
When God had finished making a batch of babies, he said,(one can only imagine that God has a lot of baby-dough, which he shaped into individual babies, and put them in the heavenly oven to cook!), he would hand each baby a whole bunch of parent pamphlets, and glossy catalogues with pictures and brief descriptions of each set of parents to choose from.
Of course the descriptions were VERY brief indeed, because if he gave away the details, no parents would ever get picked, and heaven would be crawling with an entire population of accumulating babies!
So the babies picked the parents they wanted…(nobody said what’d happen if two or more babies wanted the same set of parents…hmmm…), and after every baby had been matched with it’s parents, they’d be sent down to earth…this is probably where the storks came in to deliver the ickle bundles of joy!

Dad said he was very grateful that I’d picked them!