True Norwegian

My mother always told me that I looked just like my dad. A true Norwegian was I, all of his features I had. I guess I really had no right to complain, except all through school all the kids made fun of my last name. Don't get me wrong, I always liked my blond hair and green eyes. I just wish we Vikings were known for smaller thighs. My dad always told me that with my heritage I was stuck. And that all of the women in our family never had to worry about having a small butt. I said to him, “Those are two things that I never chose. But I think the thing that bothers me most, is this dang Norwegian nose. I even had a friend that once made up a song about mine. He sang it to the tune of a John Lennon song, and he made each and every word rhyme. All of my children always thank me for giving them knock knees. But I always tell them they can thank their grandpa, not me, for these. . I guess I really shouldn’t complain . My dad lived to be 93. And I guess that’s one of the parts of him that I hope will be passed down to me.