Designer genes

Don’t you wish you were born now? Of course, the advantage is that you’d have young pink baby skin, but there’s more to this. You could choose your genes. No kidding. At least, your parents could. The news is going gaga about people who pick out cancer-free babies and boy babies and babies with blue eyes.

If I was born now, I am writing it down in my will (or blog at least) that I demand these genes:

- I want red hair. And I don’t care if Loreal makes it in a bottle. I want it to grow out of my scalp. Because research proves that red haired women make the most money.

- I want to be born with an hourglass figure. At least, I don’t want to be born that way, cos I’d make for a funny looking baby, but to eventually grow up that way. So that no matter how much I eat, or how many babies I produce, my waist snaps back automatically to the circumference of an orange.

- I want to be a child genius, so that I don’t have to waste those years studying, and can immediately play the cello in the London Philharmonic, or become the CEO of IBM, or something that’s equally cool.

- I want them to control my genes so I never have the flu, or dust allergies – and have bones that will never break, and teeth that will never get cavities.

This is getting kinda boring. Designer genes will mean I’d never have an off day from school for being sick, and get pampered by ma’s soup and cheese at home. It means I’ll never have to make the embarrassing mistakes I always do, overeat, grow old with the someone I love, forget my TPin all the time, boil with road rage, bring my kids up the wrong wrong way, or crib about everything that’s going wrong – on this blog.

I think I’ll stick with the genes I have. I’ve suddenly realized they’re designed just fine – not to give me the perfect life, but to have the most fun, while living it.