With that in mind, back to responding to the OP -- I really don't care what anyone calls themselves. As long as I know who I am and where I'm going, it's no hair off my back if someone calls themselves a Scot or a purple half-Mexican flying people-eater. Whatever rocks yer boat.

I used to shake my head at the people who would insist on telling others that they were 5/16ths Irish and 1/3 Cherokee and 29/76ths Mongolian and 9/16ths Sri Lankan. It sounded like they were contractors talking about building a house. But after some time to reflect (old age is coming, I know) I got to the point that it really stopped bothering me anymore.

Everyone wants to fit-in and identify with a group. Everyone wants to have a history to be proud of and a lineage to trace and a family tree to look up (that is -- until they manage to find some of the rotten branches. Then the family tree gets hidden in a hurry). So I say, have fun -- tell people you're Scottish if you like. What is it to me if it's true or not? Being right (and correcting people who you see as being wrong) is highly overrated.

An acquaintance taught me something a few years ago when I asked him where he was from.

"Where are you from?"

"Me? Where am I from?"

"Yeah."

"I don' know where YOU'RE from -- but I came from my momma!"

"Lol! No, seriously. I mean -- where were you born?"

"In a hospital."

"Right. Okay. I'll play then. Where was the hospital?"

"Near the post office."

In other words -- does it really matter?