Our daughter, "A", has red hair. For some reason it's a cultural norm in the United States for people to walk up and ask children, "Where did you get that red hair?" Krista and I have always been offended by the question because, what are you implying? And if you're not implying something, then you might as well ask my daughter Z (with the brown hair) the same question.
Anyway, here's a funny conversation that my kids had with the waitress at our hotel this morning:
Waitress: Where did you get that red hair?
A: God made it.
Waitress: Oh! I see.
Z: God made my hair, too.
Waitress: Is that so?
A: He also made yours.