I've always been intrigued with the variety of answers this generation will give their children who ask, "Where did I come from, Mommy?" They will range from "Number 176 vial in Buffalo, New York," to "You were defrosted."
Interpretation
This quote humorously reflects on the diverse and imaginative answers parents might give to their children about their origins.
Erma Bombeck highlights the creativity and humor involved in parenting, particularly when addressing the curious questions children have about their beginnings. The range of potential responses—from scientific explanations to whimsical answers—illustrates the varying perspectives and styles of parenting in contemporary society, showcasing both the seriousness and lightheartedness that accompany discussions about life and origins.
In practice
In a speech about family values, one might reference this quote to illustrate the diversity of parenting approaches.
We've got a generation now who were born with semiequality. They don't know how it was before, so they think, this isn't too bad. We're working. We have our attache' cases and our three piece suits. I get very disgusted with the younger generation of women. We had a torch to pass, and they are just sitting there. They don't realize it can be taken away. Things are going to have to get worse before they join in fighting the battle.
You hear a lot of dialogue on the death of the American family. Families aren't dying. They're merging into big conglomerates.
Making coffee has become the great compromise of the decade. It's the only thing "real" men do that doesn't seem to threaten their masculinity. To women, it's on the same domestic entry level as putting the spring back into the toilet-tissue holder or taking a chicken out of the freezer to thaw.
Not everyone is comfortable with the kissing ritual. My husband is one of them. Her refuses to press lips with anyone except his wife, mother, and dog. If someone wanted to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, he would refuse until he had been formally introduced.
There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.
Maybe age is kinder to us than we think. With my bad eyes, I can't see how bad I look, and with my rotten memory, I have a good excuse for getting out of a lot of stuff.
I wish all the mothers, fathers and children out there realize how much I need them and how much I value their support.
You can say I had a severe case of 'Roots' envy. I wanted to be like Alex Haley, and I wanted to be able to... do my family tree back to the slave ship and then reverse the Middle Passage, as I like to put it, and find the tribe or ethnic group that I was from in Africa.
The art of motherhood involves much silent, unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute.
My children cause me the most exquisite suffering of which I have any experience. It is the suffering of ambivalence: the murderous alternation between bitter resentment and raw-edged nerves, and blissful gratification and tenderness. Sometimes I seem to myself, in my feelings toward these tiny guiltless beings, a monster of selfishness and intolerance.
One thing I can say about the Motown acts is that we were a family. That's not a myth
I look back at 1993 or 1994 when I made it to the National Championships, and I was on used skates and handmade or borrowed costumes. But my mom was there every step of the way for me: she was the one traveling with me all over the world at age 13.
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