(First of all, let me admit that I am known for asking very weird and random questions, and fully expecting an immediate, honest, thought-provoking answer. It’s a quirk.)
Me to Whit: If you could be married to you, would you be?
Whit: Well, I wouldn’t want to be you. I wouldn’t want to blog and do all that volunteer shit you do.
Me: No, I mean would you be married to YOU if you were ME?
Whit: Um, no. I’m a pain in the ass.
Me: I’d be married to me. Because I am pretty nice to you, even when you’re a pain in the ass.
Silence. Whit thinks the conversation is over.
But no.
Me: Would you be your own kid?
Whit: Yeah, I’d be my own kid. I’m a good dad.
Me: Yeah, I’d be my own kid, too. We’re pretty good parents. The kids seem happy.
Silence.
But no.
Me: Would you be your own friend?
Whit: I guess so.
Me: I wouldn’t be my own friend. I’m too passive aggressive. I think that would get annoying.
Whit: So let me get this straight…
…You would clone you three times, and then marry yourself and be your own kids? A family of yous? But no friends? Wouldn’t you want to clone you one more time so you’d always have at least one friend?
Me (frustrated): You don’t understand me at all.
Whit: No, I’m actually scared by how well I understand you.
Me: Well, then, maybe you understand that no, I don’t want a family of mes. That’s just dumb.
Whit: But everyone would do everything you said, all the time, and no one would talk back, and everyone would appreciate you.
Me: Maybe you do understand me. Maybe better than I understand myself.
Whit: You’re really strange.
Me: Yeah, but you love me.
Whit: And I'm not even you. Go figure.
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