Used to, a ten pound sack of flour played the roll of the baby. Now they use these high tech realistic babies, complete with carrier. The babies have a computer chip that is programed to cry at the most inopportune times...just like a baby. The 'mothers' have to then figure out what's making the baby cry. Is it hungry, they have a 'bottle' for this. Do they need a diaper change, they have diapers for this. Or, does it just need to be held, it wont stop crying until they do.
As the 'parent' tends to the baby the rest of the class is going bonkers because the baby won't quit crying. Which in turns makes me bonkers because they won't focus on the class. Makes for an interesting class period.
The class where I took these pictures was rather animated in their reaction to the babies when they cried. They had lots of comments between each other about not wanting to have children. Ever.
One of the boys asked if I was ready to have another child. I stood there, speechless. In the three seconds it took me to answer I thought: What?? What are you asking me? What kind of question is that? Hey, I can't have kids, I'm too old!
So I answered. 'I'm too old to have any more kids. It would take a miracle for me to have another child.' To which the boy ask.
How old are you?
Me: Fifty Four
Boy: What?? No way!
Other boy: No way, you don't look that old. (Which begs the question, how old does fifty four look?)
Girl: You're not fifty four! I thought you were in your mid-thirties.
Other girl: I thought you were in your thirties.
Oh, the innocence of youth.
I had a respite from the babies today, another wave comes tomorrow.
Oh, what joy.
Frankly, the only baby I'm into goes by the name of Rocket Man.
But then, you already knew that.