Relatively speaking.

I looked at the 4 year old niece last night as she was counting out dominoes in Spanish and thought: Fuck, there's no way that child is related to me, I could hardly speak my own name until I was ten, and my language skills are shit. Unless you count ordering bottles of red wine in a slurred French/Spanish/Italian combo.

But then in the museum today, she ran up to this tiny classical statue with it's missing classical cock, grabbed it's diminutive balls and shouted at the top of her voice: MA, WHERE'S HIS PENIS! SOMEONE BROKE IT OFF! HOW WILL HIS PEE-PEE COME OUT, HE HASN'T EVEN GOT A VAGINA!

I thought, yeah, that's my girl, maybe we're related after all.