I’m a donor baby.
But not just an ordinary donor baby. Mom wanted a genius baby, so she visited a special sperm bank, to buy me genes from a Nobel Prize winner. She wanted to ensure that her child would be a prodigy, someone special, someone who would give to the world something new and wonderful.
Something went wrong. I’m just a regular kid. I’m not a prodigy. Mom can’t understand why, why my Nobel genes aren’t showing themselves. She says she can’t understand why my phenotype doesn’t correspond better with my genotype. That sounds really weird, but it means she can’t...