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Saturday, May 6, 2017

What Would Your DNA Reveal?

This morning I stood gagging at the bathroom sink, desperately attempting to summon up a quarter of a teaspoon of spit.

You’ve no idea how hard it is to produce spit on demand.

If I’m talking to someone important and I don’t want to spit… well it just comes flying out, doesn’t it? All over their shirt usually, or on their arm where it sits sparkling in the sunshine and we both pretend it’s not there. But if I’m deliberately trying to produce saliva, my mouth goes as dry as the Sahara.

The sight and thought of spit makes me gag.

Even my own spit.

It’s quite a revolting bodily emission.

I was contributing a sample of my DNA, you see.

Not for a criminal investigation silly… but for an analysis of my DNA ancestry.

I’ve forked out a considerable sum of money to AncestryDNA to be precise.

Pre spit donation

This analysis won’t give me any clues as to my health but merely inform me from where from my ancestors originated.

I could have originated from any race really, what with my pointy ears (Vulcan), short legs (Elven) and propensity to lose my temper and scream (Dothraki).

“I reckon it will say you’re 40% Chardonnay, 20% Nicorettes and maybe 40% Anglo-Saxon,” quipped the ever witty Scotto.

He’s very unoriginal. I could easily have made that joke if I’d thought of it first.

In truth, I reckon it will come back saying I’m 90% American Indian.

Mainly because I had an imaginary American Indian friend when I was a child and I have a deep seated belief I am reincarnated from an Indian princess. Plus I have a penchant for wearing plaits.

I’d fancy being anything except Ango-Saxon really, because let’s face it, it’s a bit boring.

All those bad teeth, weak chins and negative outlooks on life; you know... winter is coming, and all that moaning.

I wouldn’t mind it if I was Scandinavian; preferably directly linked to those good-looking Vikings on the television.

Even a direct relationship to the female members of ABBA would be okay. Not the male members though because they were ugly.

If it comes back and says I’m bloody Anglo-Saxon with NOTHING at all exotic in the mix I will be bitterly disappointed.

On the other hand, if it comes back and says I’m part Chinese or Italian or African, I will be redecorating my house, dress style, music playlist and accent, accordingly.

I will fully embrace the culture and drive you all mad.

What would you expect to see from a DNA report?

P.S. Sorry to all my Anglo-Saxon friends. Particularly my husband.