Our youngest son was born at such an unlikely time that I couldn't possibly have been his father. For about fifteen years I tried to get Mrs D to tell me who the lucky guy had been. I assured her that, "I'll treat him just as though he's my own."
Then he joined the school cadets and got one of those super-short haircuts. And there, standing out on either side of his head like a Legion cab driving down the street with both doors open, were these two enormous ears. He was mine, all right.,
Bunny ears... Bunny ears... Do you like them? Hmm. Not sure you aren't making use of that license you got. Looks suspiciously at you. People try to trick me here. Oomph.