so this is where mendelian genetics comes in handy

Now that the specter of impending (well, six months from now) fatherhood has finally washed over me, I can't help but wonder what the hatchling is going to be like. I am not so naïve as to think that either genetics or environment are going to shape our child entirely; after all, our understanding of heredity has come a long way from simplistic (not to mention politically-charged) "nature vs. nurture" arguments.

But seeing how I am going to have "Evolutionary Biology" and not "Psychology" written on a piece of paper when I finish going through the meat grinder my thesis and defense, I thought it appropriate to consider the possibilities from a Mendelian perspective anyway. So there.

Ok, it stands to reason that 50% of the zygote's alleles (remember those? A reminder: each gene comprises two alleles, one from each parent) are mine, and 50% are d.w.'s. So this is what the little dude or dudette got from us:

   

If you couldn't guess, that's d.w. looking pretty, sitting on the dirty ground in a clean white dress (her legs are allergic to standing, you see, especially while waiting in line in grimy public places--but that's another post), and that's me stuffing my face with hotdogs (which weren't little baby death traps in 1981, so don't go calling child services on my mom). Really, not much has changed since then. Of course, nowadays that dress would be some kick-ass thrift store find, and that hot dog would be organic bison. But still.

Oh, but wait! You can't forget about the aunts and uncles. The zygote shares 25% of its DNA with them, too. First, the uncles (Sorry little bro, I don't have any of you. Send something along, and I'll update this post):

   

That's d.w.'s at left, mine on the right. That look of glee is probably a result of his having just violently knocked me over with one of those big, surprisingly hard bumper things. Big brothers can be so sweet sometimes. d.w.'s, on the other hand, was a model of big-brotherhood, although those limes do look a little menacing. Hey, I wonder if the mother-in-law still has that outfit kicking around. That would be awesome.

And I couldn't forget about the little sis, who managed to inherit the fashion maven genes (although the big bro is about as close to a North Bay Judd as they come--see for yourself):

Dude, she had, like, ten years on Beck. Seriously.

So what is the moral here? I guess it's this: We will undoubtedly have a wonderfully strange child, if genetics are any guide. Sweet.

Comments

[Dad_to_Be]

Our big genetic thing is red hair. K___ has red hair, I certainly have some in my beard and my nana was red. There's a good chance we've both got the gene in there and recessive or not, a good chance it will appear in our sproglet. I don't particularly care, but K___ says red hair on men is horrid and she'll give any ginger kids away to her mum to look after. I think she's joking...

[Auntie M]

Man, you're kid is going to rock...several parts grimy fashionable kiddo, several parts carnivore, one part knocking-sibs-and-cousins-off-brick-walls and one part international indie rocker slash girly-girl.

By the way, I love that picture of me :)