When I am king of the world

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
The unfair distribution of trials and tribulations between men and women

Submitted: November 09, 2016

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Submitted: November 09, 2016

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When I am king of the world...

As a reproductive endocrinologist, a husband and a father, I have often contemplated the unfair physiology born by women versus men.

Take a look at boys: as puberty dawns, they run the relatively trivial gamut of pimples, wet dreams and hopeful erections. As men, they relish sex, get quick results and never have to fake orgasm. By contrast, having eaten that Granny Smith in the garden of Eden, a young girl first has an embarrassing surprise in math class one afternoon.  The menarche ushers in unwelcome sexual complexity, premenstrual tension, menstruating itself and then of course, pregnancy; wanted or not. Throw in morning sickness, the absence of a glass or pint of something for nine months then the piece de la resistance of pain, childbirth. She hasn't been punished enough for the apple business, so why not pile on lactational anxiety, postpartum depression and a seemingly unappreciative newborn who won't latch on for breastfeeding? Then the mother has to go through the stress of weaning the precious little parasite. Let's repeat that again and again, especially if you want to please the Pope or if the father in this discussion is too scared to have his little pipes nicked. Wait, almost forgot about menopause and osteoporosis.

So when I become king of the world and director of all things Darwinian, life will change and I am sure, most women will underwrite the plan enthusiastically.

First, sex itself will be a pretty much 50:50 with no need to fake anything and the world will always move beneath both men and women. We will reproduce like birds; there will be no menarche, no pain, pimples, menstruation or menopause. In keeping with the bird theme, men will remain the cock ups that many of them are already.

After a few days, a woman will lay a medium sized egg instead of squeezing a six and a half pound baby through her birth canal. I have given some consideration to men doing this instead, but backed down at the thought of forcing a medium egg down my urethra. So,  egg-birth will be left to women but despite this burden, they will be able to celebrate the birth of new eggs with a glass of wine on the day of laying, just three or four days after conception.

During eggnancy, women could work, do all sorts of sports and climb the corporate ladder. Then they would merely take the morning off to have that egg or two (in the case of twins).  It would be the husband’s responsibility to turn the eggs twice a day until hatching, nine months after egg-birth; equality at play for not giving birth to them in the first place. 

The problem inherent in having a six and a half pound baby crack out of a medium sized egg has yet to be addressed but I believe that to be a minor detail; solved by natural selection. When one considers that elephants are thought to have evolved from whales,  egg size is trivial by comparison.

After nine months, the whole family would gather around the egg for the happy event; a bonafide home birth. Unlike the hospital situation , everyone could be there, friends, neighbors and even the family dog. There would upbeat music and a cash bar, no Ob-Gyn and no midwife; only perhaps, an experienced poultry farmer. As long as dad had been turning the egg diligently, the two expectant parents would just grab a hammer from the workshop and deliver the baby. Simply wonderful and wonderfully simple! A sharp crack on the blunt end of the egg (to avoid denting baby's head) and the child would be born!

Of course no one will not know the sex of the child until it is “delivered” because ultrasound can't penetrate egg shells and x-rays are too dangerous but who cares? In a 50:50 world, being a woman would be as easy as being a man.


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