I've been listening to Timebomb by the Old 97's. I think this song is appropriate considering the fact that I am a genetic timebomb. Bad teeth, heart failure, scoliosis, arthritis, macular degeneration, diabetes, obesity, clinical depression, male pattern baldness. THe list goes on and on...I'm sadly reminded of my ancestral failings everytime I go to the doctor...and I realize that this is my anti-dowery.
In the good old days, fathers would bring gold, cases of expensive whisky and cows to the potential husbands of their daughters...in essence buying them a "good" match. What would my father have to offer? They would take one look at my medical history and run out of the room realizing that I can offer nothing more than pain and a future of waiting for the floor to drop out. They can expect to wake up one morning to a bald, blind hunchback, crying uncontrollably and going into convulsions from low blood sugar. Our children will be fat snaggle toothed cripples who can't play soccer because of their heart condition. Don't you want to marry me???
I realize this is a little over the top, but I blame it on my penchant for drama...oh, did I forget to add that to the list??? Honestly, it's going to take a strong man to get past my genetics and I wonder if that is possible. This is the hidden stuff...the quiet truths that have prompted men to say, "look at her mother if you want to see what the woman you marry will be like in 20 years". And you wonder why I'm NOT against genetic engineering?????