The other day there were a lot of gingers about. And when I say a lot, I mean it was like a ginger invasion. Being "orange-haired" myself I would notice these things. It didn't help that this day was followed by a 4 day trip to Ireland. Where there are more gingers. Much more. Like the same ratio as blondes to brunettes in Scandinavia. In short, in an environment when I was surrounded by my "peers" (note the LOOSE use of this term) I felt alienated. Like most normal people must feel when surrounded by gingers. This gave me faith - maybe there is hope for me yet! Maybe I haven't been sucked into the foreign world of gingers...maybe that attempt at a brunette makeover I gave myself is sinking in years later!
They say that ginger-ness skips a generation...since neither of my parents have been punished with the curse of the "jaunge" (said with dramatic French accent). But how do we get it to skip all future generations? Hitler tried (albeit unsuccessfully), hair dye just doesn't seem to cut it (although I have placed all my eggs in that basket), and even Eric Cartman's attack on the soulless ginger kids only turned him ginger too! Is society safe? Probably. The conversation that surrounds me on a daily basis has proven that if we can't physically destroy the globe's ginger population, you can at least scare it into submission:
Colleague #1: If two gingers hooked up would one or both spontaneously combust?
Cap'n Carrot: No (read: probably yes, but I am not willing to test that theory)
Colleague #2: Do you try to tan in the hope that your freckles will one day join together to form a tan?
Cap'n Carrot: No (read: hell's yes - it's not ideal being see-through)
I think the only calming thought I have is that my children won't be ginger due to the generation-skipping thing (and I console myself with the fact that I probably won't last long enough to have to counsel the grandchildren on the traumatising future that awaits them!)
