I’m cheating for today’s post and copying something from the blog I kept through my surrogacy pregnancy. This afternoon I read through it for the first time and ran across this post. I cracked myself up so much that just had to share it over here. I posted this conversation about a conversation some of my 8th grade students had in December 2006 when I was about six months pregnant with Baby M:
morning while on hall duty during homeroom, a group of my students, who
were obviously in the middle of some sort of frantic debate, bombarded
me with questions and had this discussion:
Group of discombobulated female students yelling questions at me simultaneously:
Girl A: Isn’t the baby you’re carrying for your friends going to come out mixed?
Girl B: Huh?
Girl C: What’s the baby you’re having going to come out looking like?
Girl D: No, it’s going to be Black, right?
Girl E: I am, like, SOOOOO con-fuh-yoozed!
an melodramatic sigh of frustration and a haughty roll of the eyes, the
one male student in the middle of the conversation said this:
Boy: (roll eyes, SIIIIIGGGHHH) NO,
it’s like this – the doctor took the dad’s sperm and the mom’s egg and
mixed them in a Petri dish and then stuck them in Mrs. B. So the baby
can only be White.
Girls A-E: (silent, blank stares of perplexity)
Me: (listening and watching quietly with amusement)
Boy: (Another theatrical sigh)
Let’s put it this way – if you mix white milk and vanilla Quik mix, the
milk is still gonna be white, even if you put it in a brown pitcher
(referring to me with a flourish of his hands). You can only get brown
milk if you mix white milk with Chocolate Quik mix.
Girls A-E: (light bulb effect, in unison) Ohhhhhhh!
Boy: (obviously proud of himself) How ‘bout that metaphorical speaking, Mrs. B?
At least I’ll never be able to say that they didn’t learn anything from me this year.