Y chromosome

During our first session of the parenting class, a couple began giggling over something the teacher said.  Like any teacher, she was curios over what the joke was.

The Mom: Well, the other day, at the babysitter’s, our son stepped on this huge lizard.  He’s six, and that lizard was HUGE, bigger than his foot.  I couldn’t believe how brave he was.  I wouldn’t have gone near that thing.

The Teacher: I think you need to examine why you’re son felt it was ok to kill something. 

The Mom: ?

The Teacher: Your son decided it was ugly and scary and needed to be killed.

The rest of the class: ?

I related the story a few days later to the other moms at Evan’s kindergarten class as we watched the kids stare at a baby lizard they corralled in a corner.

Me: . . . And what made your son want to kill it?  Um, it’s called the Y chromosome.

We laughed and looked at the boys.  Evan had taken it upon himself to step on the lizard, but he kept missing. 

Me: EVAN!  Don’t kill it!  If you want to do something with it!  Pick it up!  (Pause)  Like I said, Y chromosome.

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