Joyce and Walky!

I’m reminded of how I thought babies were made when I was little.  (Like, elementary school little, and thankfully not a teenager.  I may have a crazy sexual repression history, but I wasn’t quite that bad.)  I thought women just popped out babies automatically once they hit 22.  Obviously, they’d be married by then, so there’d be a family waiting for this child.  You just sort of get married at 21.  It’s a thing.  And apparently there’s no genetic inheritance going on, I guess, because clearly all human children aren’t clones of the asexually-reproducing mother, and the father has no input as there is no intercourse involved because I didn’t know that was a thing yet, so folks are just folks, whatevs.  It is not a baby-making theory that withstands much scrutiny, but whatchagonnado.

Anyway, hopefully that aside distracts from how this strip gives us a second “strategic retreat” punchline.  C’mon, young me!  Vary it up a bit!