Ms. Tandy held up the doll and asked if anyone knew what it was.

One girl said, "A doll."

The teacher replied, "Come on, if it was that easy, I wouldn't have asked."

"Oh! Oh!" another girl called. "I know! I know!"

The rest of the evening was pretty uneventful. After Aunt Jane left, Alice showed me the guest room. I took a shower, then called my parents. They were tired from house-hunting. I told them about my trip with Aunt Jane and a little about school. It wasn't hard to leave stuff out — they didn't have much energy to listen. It was nice to hear their voices, even if they sounded a little discouraged. My mother hadn't seen anything she even remotely liked.

After the phone call, I returned to the living room, but Alice and Denise were talking intently about who knows what, so I waved good night and settled in the guest room for the night. I thought about calling Aunt Jane, but instead read the dress code a dozen times until I knew it by heart.

The next morning I only stumbled once when I had to recite it for the principal. I got it off perfectly for Mrs. Zeff, who happened to catch me in the hallway. She actually complimented me on my dress! Carla and I had lunch together. Carla dominated the conversation by talking about Pat McKinney, and what a great friend I was to have set her up.

This unfortunately reminded me of my date with Jerry. He and Pat arrived near the end of lunch to firm up the date. Carla looked ready to burst, and Pat, who turned out to be a beefy monster, was obviously very interested in Carla. There was no way I could let her down, so we arranged to meet after school at a soda shop. My many blushes made Jerry smile, and I couldn't help but smile back. I had to get a grip on this blushing business. Maybe Alice knew some trick to keep it from happening.

The rest of the day was uneventful, until the last class of the day, Home Ec. Thank God it was my last class.

Now, even if I did want to be a girl for a few months, I had no desire to take Home Ec. I wasn't even sure what it covered, but I knew it wasn't for me. On the other hand, Shop didn't tempt me in the least, and there were only two girls (Carla being one) who'd taken that class. There was no point in sticking out AND doing something I was no good at.

So, on to Home Ec.! The teacher, Ms. Tandy, had a doll on her desk when we entered. I guessed we might be learning infant CPR or some such thing. That wouldn't be so bad.

While the roll was called, I couldn't help but notice the one boy in class, John Martin. He seemed a little uncomfortable, but he bore it well. The teacher asked him why he'd taken the class, and he explained that he was going to be a fashion designer, and he was here for the sewing. His candor surprised me. I guess I'd always assumed that guys who followed that career were gay, but this guy didn't seem to be gay or effeminate at all. In fact, I began to suspect that he'd taken the class to be with all the girls.

But who was I to wonder about a boy taking Home Ec., anyway!

Ms. Tandy held up the doll and asked if anyone knew what it was.

One girl said, "A doll."

The teacher replied, "Come on, if it was that easy, I wouldn't have asked."

"Oh! Oh!" another girl called. "I know! I know!"

"Yes?"

"It's Baby Thinks-A-Lot!"

"Close, but not quite," the teacher replied. "This is Baby Think-It-Over™. This is your assignment for the weekend. Each of you, except for Mr. Martin, will get a baby, a bracelet, and a notebook.

"When you get your baby, I will activate it."

"What does it do?" someone asked. "Does it wet itself?" There was some laughter at this.

"No," Ms. Tandy replied, "but I think, before the weekend is over, you might wish that it did. This is an infant simulator. This is a scale replica of a three-month-old. It will give you an idea of what it's like to care for a baby. You need to keep this baby with you from now until Monday morning, when you will return them to me. I'll be here early on Monday morning, and I'm sure most of you will be as well.

"The baby cries at random intervals, and you must soothe the baby by putting this key in its back." She showed the key, which was attached to the bracelet. She inserted it and removed it. "Sometimes the baby stops in five minutes, sometimes it takes as long as a half hour. You hold the key inside until it stops crying. This simulates feeding, changing, giving affection.

"Each baby has a recorder inside that will show how prompt you were in soothing the baby. It also will show whether you dropped, threw, shook, or hit the baby, which — I shouldn't need to say — are very bad things to do. Any of those actions could kill a real baby."

"What happens if the batteries fall out, or the key gets stuck inside?" I asked.

"Hmm, you're a clever one," the teacher replied. "I'll have to keep an extra eye on you. No, you can't do either of those things. If you take out the batteries, it will be recorded as abuse. If you could somehow leave the key inside, the recorder will show that you neglected the baby. It would be like taping a baby bottle to a baby's head.

"Also, before anyone asks," she said, looking directly at me, "You can't get your mother or grandmother or friend or anyone else to 'babysit'. The bracelet is tamper-proof. If you succeed in getting it off, it will show, and you will get an F for this assignment."

In a loud voice, she announced, "You will be graded on how well you treat your baby. Be good to your baby. Don't hurt your baby."

She held up a notebook. "You also need to record your observations and feelings during this weekend. Don't worry about what you write; just write. It's important to be candid and honest.

"Any questions?"

I raised my hand. "How come he doesn't have to take a baby?" I asked, gesturing to John Martin. "That isn't fair."

"Welcome to the world of women, Miss Donner!" she replied. "Men can't have babies. That's not fair, either, but there isn't anything we can do about it. Feel free to write about it in your notebook this weekend.

"Mr. Martin, you can also take a notebook. If you happen to have any observations about your classmates, you can write them down."

"I think I have my first entry," he said, grinning. He turned to me and said, "What's your name now?"

I glared at him, and Ms. Tandy said, "Marcie, why don't you come on up and get the first baby?"

© 2006, 2007 by Kaleigh Way