Here's a place to talk about the relationships in your life whenever you want.
When my friend told me she was having a baby earlier this year, the first thing she said was "I can’t believe it -– have you seen the size of [insert name of boyfriend here]’s head? Childbirth is going to be a nightmare."
This is the same woman who, at 5 foot, always said she couldn’t end up with a short man, despite my protestations that she should save the non-midget men for us taller ladies.
Her reasoning was that unless she had kids with a tall man, her shorty genes would win over, and her children wouldn’t stand a chance of breaking the 5' 2” barrier.
I’ve always felt that it’s a bit iffy to pick potential life partner based on their genetic suitability –- we’ve all had those relationships where pheromones and natural attraction have A LOT to answer for, but (in my case, anyway), they are rarely the people I’d want in my life forever, let alone want to raise a child with.
But maybe I’m being a little naïve here.
No, it's not mine, nor have I stolen it. BUT LOOK AT THE SIZE OF ITS HEAD!!!
Earlier this week, it was reported that a Chinese man has successfully sued his wife for having plastic surgery before they got married, and not telling him.
His argument was that their child, who he has described as "incredibly ugly" (setting the poor kid up for a lifetime of monstrous daddy issues), looked like neither of her parents. In fact, he suspected his wife of having an affair, before she finally fessed up to hitting the scalpel.
Scientists (the scientists hired by the Daily Mail) are constantly banging on about how men and women are naturally wired to pick a partner based on genetic predispositions -– women like tall men because they’re better protectors, and men prefer women with the perfect hip-to-waist ratio because they’re more fertile.
So next time I get rejected by someone for not having sexy enough shins, or whatever, I'll comfort myself with the possibility that it’s because, genetically speaking, we wouldn’t have "good" (read: clever, popular, attractive, healthy) children.
SO, TWO THINGS HERE.
Pheromones should ensure that you’re naturally attracted to your most biologically compatible mate, but you can buy pheromones to mask your natural smell (comes with free e book entitled How To Pick Up Girls), so how do you know if someone’s faking it?
And, more to the point (because the point is, as always, me) do I need to amend my perfect man tick list to ensure I’m going for men I’m genetically compatible (read: would have BEAUTIFUL BABIES) with?
Eons ago I wrote my vaguely ridiculous perfect man list, based on the Daily Mail’s even more ridiculous list of Britain’s most perfectest (fictional) men. In my innocence, I listed such attributes as "must own a passport" and "can cook a bit."
But maybe I should have played to my weaknesses, in attempt to even the playing field for my future offspring. Such as:
Genetically predisposed to have excellent skin
I had hideous acne from the age of 11 that’s never entirely gone away, and I wouldn’t wish my enlarged pores on anyone, let alone the fruits of my womb.
Naturally perfect teeth
Mine are just about straight now, after having 12 teeth removed when I was a kid (small jaw, y’all), years of braces, plus another year of Invisalign recently. However, had I grown up in, say the 1960s like my parents, I’d be the unfortunate owner of a mouth full of proper hideous gnashers, and no one needs that.
(Actually, on a totally different note, it’s occurred to me recently that had I been born 50 years earlier, I’d totally be an old crone by now, with a hideous mouth of crowded teeth, acne scars galore, a twisted, painful spine and a hobbly walk from the bunions I seem to be developing. How’s that mental image working out for you?).
Really, really bendy and quite sporty
I am not bendy to the point where I can just about reach below my knees if I’m trying to touch my toes, and that’s only because I’ve done a load of pilates. I have all the dexterity of a 70-year-old, and I’d love my children to have the sort of sporty, subtle bodies that make them good at shit.
Absolutely no predilection for anxiety
If I ended up with someone who freaked out about EVERYTHING the way I do, can you imagine the neurotic little freaks we’d end up spawning?
Must have a rhesus negative blood type
Because I do, and apparently if you procreate with someone with a positive blood type, it can cause all sorts of funny business -- look, I don't know what exactly, I’m a writer, not a scientist. But apparently it's no fun.
Is it weird to start asking these perfect-skinned, bendy men I'm going to start dating what their blood type is on the first date? Or will they find it charming?
Any other suggestions for my list? And, much more interestingly, what's the best/worst/biggest thing you've ever faked to ensnare a future life partner?
Rebecca is cruising for rhesus negative men on twitter @rebecca_hol.