So, last week as my children and I were sitting in the pediatrician’s tiny tiny examining room (going on our second hour), I had about all I could take of my 7 year old’s perpetual questions.“Why are some dogs big and others are small?”“Because that is how God makes them.”“Who decided to call the color green - green?”“There is this guy named Bob and he sits in a room all day naming colors.”“Where do polar bears go in the summer?”“Hawaii.”Why were Ryan’s fingers stuck together?”I paused and pondered this intriguing question a little longer than I had the others and then said, “Because every family originates from an animal and we come from ducks.”And thereafter, my 7 year old went …completely silent. And this, my friends, was worth every penny of any future counseling bills that may result from this answer. Now, the back story - when my nephew, Ryan, was born, his parents noticed within a few hours of his birth, that between two of his fingers there was an extra flap of skin. They call it webbing and it runs in families. A little tidbit my brother had failed to mention to my sister-in-law during their courting. Later that day, when the geneticist came in and asked, “Do either of your parents have a webbed toe or finger?”, and my brother slowly raised his hand… my sister-in-law went nuts!!!My mother, you see, had two little toes that were webbed and apparently before her, her grandmother had had it. Something we like to say that she brought over …from the old country. A few years later, with a little snip snip, Ryan is as good as gold. But due to his age, he was required to wait two years before the surgery. And for those two years, nothing and I mean nothing fascinated Neill more than Ryan’s two fingers that were “stuck” together. He talked about it incessantly and we would often find him in the corner of a room, with Ryan, trying to pry his fingers apart. To which my brother would scream out, “Can you please tell your kid to stop trying to pull my kid’s fingers apart?”To which I’d respond, “Neill, leave duck man alone.”So after sitting and waiting for two excruciating hours in the doctors office, I suppose I could have chosen to explain to my son the genetic anomaly that makes our people so special, but instead, went with my “duck theory”, as that seemed much more fun.The silence lasted all of 5 whole minutes as he considered what I’d told him and then he asked…“What animal does Daddy come from?”“Bear”“What animal does Ms. Becky come from?”“Frog”“What animal does Ms. Caroline come from?”“Zebra.”“What animal does Mr. Jay come from?”Somehow my evil plan had gone …terribly wrong!Angel Kane can be contacted at email@example.com. To read more of Angel’s and Becky’s columns go to www.wilsonpost.com and hit Columns & Blogs.