You know what's funny? Paintings of Adam and Eve where they both have belly-buttons. Mind you, lack of a belly-button on Adam and Eve would've been one of the biggest tourist attractions in the pre-Flood world, as the grandchildren and the great-grandchildren would've come up and said, 'Why don't you have a belly-button?'
I was still at primary school when I asked the biology teacher, 'Why do we have a belly-button?' The umbilical cord was not yet part of our school curriculum and his reply was an evasive, 'So that our tummy can breathe'.
Even at the age of fourteen I found this hard to believe, and I kept asking uncomfortable questions. Questions about the Spanish Inquisition got me a less-than-top mark in 'Religion'; not believing my biology teacher got me a less-than-top mark in 'Naturlehre' which is what Germans call biology. (I had also questioned the androgynous origin of boys' nipples but his answer was lost in the tumultous noise suddenly coming from the back of the class; I seem to have been precocious before I became promiscuous.)
I've been asking questions all my life and many have got me into trouble. I'm now reduced to just 'What's for dinner?' and 'What's on television?'
