Evolutionary consolation

[Mommy puts son to bed]
Mommy, I’m so afraid.
– Why, darling?
Do you think I have bad genes?
– Why do you think that?
Girls don’t want to talk with me.
– But you got your genes from mommy and daddy.
– Mommy and daddy talked to each other.
Did you?
– Yes.
But my genes could still be bad.
– How?
Maybe you two were forced to mate, or maybe you didn’t have a sufficiently long courtship period to discern each other’s evolutionarily advantageous traits, or mommy’s biological clock was ticking and you were her last resort for procreation.
– Those are profound questions, young man.
Yes [whines]
– Are you tired?
– Then sleep. Why don’t you just behave as if your genes were good?
Just believe?
– Yes. Just believe that you are an integral part of our evolution’s absence of purpose. Just believe that you are not a cul-de-sac of evolution.
No! Don’t cull the sack!
– Goodnight son.

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