Such a tasty aphorism: "Necessity is the mother of invention."
Its source is unknown, but that hardly matters. The words trip off the tongue and into the mind ... and are welcomed like some much-trusted friend... an open-hearted embrace. The aphorism's meaning and impact 'fit' like some softened glove. The experience of this life seems to prove it true and true and true again: Necessity is the mother of invention.
Mothers are the ones who bear children. It's the way of the world. They do the heavy lifting. And what they bring forth is cause for wonder and despair. Their progeny are as much a magical mystery tour as they are plain as salt. Mothers give birth ... what the hell did you expect?
But if "necessity is the mother of invention," then who is the father? Virgin birth may be OK as fodder for a Sunday-morning get-together (I'm as much a sucker for a good yarn as the next person), but there's a time for tales and a time for facts. And when it comes to birth -- when it comes to necessity -- inventions must once have been "a twinkle in your daddy's eye," don't you think?
So, without being a spoilsport about much-welcomed aphorisms, still I would like to ask:
Who's your daddy?