My late grandmother, on my father’s side, used to have a sign hanging in one of her hallways that read:
You’re not much if you’re not Dutch.
It got me thinking today: What if you’re Irish?
Eh, you’re not much either, you mick bastard.
And I say this with Irish blood in me, even though admittedly I have more Scottish than Irish in my blood, and probably more Dutch than Irish.
With a last name that roughly translates Robin’s Son, obviously I also have English in my blood. Most likely, I have Welsh too in my blood to round out the British Isles. To my knowledge, I have no other European strains, although my mother thinks we might have German in our family tree on her side of the family.
She might be right as I recently unearthed this drawing in a shoebox of my late grandmother, on my mother’s side:
From right to left are my great-great-great-great-great grandcousin Siegfried, his son, Roy, Siegfriend’s other son, Bob, and Bob’s real mother, Siegfried’s mistress, Lorelei. I might be wrong, but I think by the way he’s standing, Siggy might have had to pee when this family portrait was taken.
At least, no Luxembourger blood runs through my veins…
…although it could. After all, it is the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg.
And I don’t think it’s too much to ask to make the leap to this “Dutchie”:
All you have to do is follow the white rabbit.