someday, in the future, my little yellow children, you will be old enough to know the story of your conception, and birth. i think i owe it to you to tell you the full story.
you see, your birth mother and i met late one night, quite by accident, when she read a 'sexual' journal i'd written online. i so amazed her with my sexual prowess (and descriptions of my oversized strap on), that she could not help but dream of me that very night.
alas, but the story did not end well. you see, through no fault of my own, i transmitted the pHIV to her...the plasticHuman Imunodeficiency Virus. this was the beginning of a long fight against the rampant plastic market for her, and to this day, she struggles to keep her body healthy, and free of polycarbons and silicates.
but through it all, your birth mother has loved you, my yellow ducks. despite all the hurdles (a failed acting career, an absent partner, and a strange covey of bugs that follows her everywhere) of her life, she has remained true to what she believes; you are her children, and she will do anything to make your lives worth while.
i, however, owe you all a sincere apology. at the time of your birth, i was young and foolish, and refused to pay any form of child support (later, i offered soap, but she refused). i was absent for much of your young lives which i can only atribute to the distance between us...a vast ocean stretches between us, one that i've never been inclined to cross.
but listen well, my children. heed your mother's words, and hold your head high. don't frown on your fellow rubber mates, and remember always, that you don't have to question the motives of the chicken.