Hayter for Oct 20, 2024
“It sure took a lot to get you here!”
Warning: If your child can read, and doesn’t have a hint about the birds and the bees, you may not want him to read this. Of course, I haven’t written this article yet, so you might want to wait for the ending of this thing before making your own decision.
I don’t remember when my Dad told me about the birds and the bees. I imagine I was about 10. I don’t even remember what he told me because, at the time, he was mad about having to spill the proverbial beans. – “Really, you don’t know? Oh, shoot! Well, pay attention because I’m only going to say this once.”
When Dad was angry, he was a fast talker. No time for any description of the what, where, when, or how steps of the process. Mom must’ve told him to do it. I imagine we were at the drive-in and an actor used a bad word, and I asked Mom what it meant. If she said, “Ask your daddy.” I would’ve answered, “Never mind.”
Dad ended up telling me the whole story
faster than a speeding bullet. I understood it just enough to be embarrassed
about it. Maybe not as much as Dad. At that moment I was determined to never
get married. – To be honest, though, I think I could’ve handled it better had
Dad not made up so many different names for things.
Okay, all of that sexual stuff was a segue
into today’s topic, which is “What were the chances of you being born?” – If
you never took biology, you may not understand the title.
I don’t care to get too specific about the
topic, but you’re likely familiar with the male’s responsibility for
babymaking. The guy, depending on his age, delivers from 100 million to 300
million sperm in one trip. With a 300 million sperm count, one-third will head
where they’re supposed to. Another 100 million will go all over the place,
except where they’re supposed to. And the final 100 million don’t go anywhere.
They just hang around and make small talk. -- “Does anybody know why we’re here?”
They’re completely out of it. At times I feel as if I may be the result of one
of those final 100 million do-nothing-cells.
That aside, in the birthing process, the
female contributes one egg that should accept one of the 100 million sperm
knocking on or near the door. After allowing one of the sperm in the doorway.
The fertilized egg will soon take on a biological name referencing what happens
when 23 female chromosomes come together with 23 male chromosomes. It’s called
a zygote. I tell you where it got its name, but it would’ve taken me another 30
minutes. The point is, you and I were once zygotes. Hey, it was a surprise to me,
too.
After that, the cells start splitting until the entire conglomerate becomes a fetus… which will eventually become a human being. If any one particular cell bailed out and another took its place, the baby might turn out to be a different gender, with different talents, possibly including a never-dying desire to dance or bowl.
Elsie and Faris Hayter ended up with seven
kiddos. Each of the boys looks a little bit alike. I remember the four of us
were sitting on a brick wall that was holding back a deep stream when a young
boy walked up and asked, “Are y’all twins?” Before that, I’d never seen the
similarities
Each offspring will have a different personality and talent from the others… unless their father was a professional football player. The different physical health, eyesight, and foot size may be different. It all depends on which particular sperm from the 100 million won the race to the egg. The eyesight, foot size, brain capacity, taste in food, desire to read, be a biologist…
The female egg contains 23 female chromosomes and the male carries 23 male chromosomes. When they meet up, they become 46 chromosomes which is called a zygote. And that my diligent reader, is how each of us got here. We were each once a zygote. And, like you, I don’t remember a thing about it.
The chance of you being a zygote was a few
100 million to one. But you made it. If any one step had been altered, like
say, the 87,431,173rd sperm knocked you to the side and became the first sperm
to reach the egg. Your sperm would have a short lifespan in a crowded area. The
good news is, you would soon die as a sperm not chosen. And, you wouldn’t care,
because you would never remember the way you were.
But, as it turned out for you, I believe
the hand of God was involved in seeing that one particular egg picked one
particular sperm to be a child with particular interests, talents,
personalities, likes, dislikes, and looks. It goes all the way back to our time
as a zygote. If we never made it to the zygote stage, our parents wouldn’t even
know enough to care. – Why? Right, you never existed
If you happen to be reading this thing right now, you need to thank your mom for the use of 23 of her chromosomes and your dad for his 23. As a result, here you are. How do you feel about that? – Sorry for the zygotes that never formed? Get over it.
PS: About whether or not you should let your child in on this story? Let me say this. If my dad had read this article to me, I still wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.
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