I'm Woody Allen's son (not...)

I'm starting this post with two facts:

1. J is a prankster.
2. People always tell J that he looks like Woody Allen.

So on Saturday night, we were at a Halloween party. As usual, total strangers kept telling J that he looked like Woody. J is always amused.

But this time he upped the ante: He told a total lie. J told a huddle of people that, in fact, his mom had a tryst with Woody Allen in the 1960s. And that ever since, his family suspected that he was Woody Allen's son, but had never verified it.

Then J sat back and watched the awestruck little huddle as they worked the room... they spoke with other little huddles. Again and again, then those huddles turned around to gawk at J.

This will come back to us.

As often as we can, we go to parties hosted by this one organizer. Every time, we get to know more regulars and our paths cross at subsequent parties and festivals. It's a little community of sorts.

I know... it's only a matter of time before someone wanders up to J and says, "Hey, aren't you Woody Allen's son?"

And then our kids will come to be known as Woody Allen's grandchildren. As they grow up, they will start to speculate and this lie will ultimately be woven into family lore.

Our kids will tell their grandchildren. And in another 100 years, this party lie will be a sacred family secret... that we are all in fact the spawn of a great, New York actor and comedian. Mark my words.