The other day I was floating around in a lake near Munich with a girlfriend whose 17 year-old daughter, wearing a very skimpy bikini, had just waded into the water. The daughter has such a narrow body, is so not wide in any way, that I frankly stared at her. I was particularly exercised because the girl had been stuffing Kasekuchen(cheese cake) into her mouth with abandon during Kaffeekuchen. Following my gaze my girlfriend stated “Nicht meine Gene” (“Not my genes”) with mock bitterness.  
Not my genes either. I had picked on a small piece of Kasekuchen for a whole hour, fearful that it might take up residence -- without invitation -- somewhere on my body forever.