I discovered something rather startling the other day.
For a while now I have been delving into the old family trees on both my mother’s and my father’s side.
I have discovered I am related to myself.
What’s worse, I am either my own father or my own son.
You see, there was this chappie called Abraham John Le Mesurier who was born on Gurnsey back in 1748. He was the one who started it all. If he hadn’t existed, then nor would I, but twice over.
On my mother’s side, he was my Great Great Great Grandfather.
But on my father’s side, he was my Great Great Great Great Grandfather.
So because of a generation being skipped, I am one generation out of step with myself and therefore must be my own son, or father depending on which line I follow. Either that or I am one of those distant uncles that everyone talks about but never invites anywhere.
What makes all this inbreeding weirder is that my mother was English and my father was from Cork. They met by sheer chance and it was decades later that someone mentioned the Le Mesurier link. And incidentally, yes – it’s the same family as John Le Mesurier, the actor. He was my father’s cousin.
I was going to include Herself’s family tree, but I’m too scared now. I may discover that she is my brother or something.
By the way, they say that the children of cousins either have great intelligence or webbed feet.
My feet aren’t webbed.