Child: Can I go with you and watch?
Me: Sure, you get the doctors behind that, go for it.
Child: Can I have your gall bladder afterward?
Me: ...I honestly should have seen that coming.
Child: Is that a yes?
...I kind of didn't. And yet, in retrospect, I am surprised that wasn't the first question. The normal response should be what on earth would you do with a gallbladder? but the thing is? He probably has a list somewhere and I don't want to know.
He keeps randomly coming in to poke me in my presumed gall bladder area and then asking me curiously how big the stones are.
How much usable DNA could someone get from a gall bladder anyway? It's not that I think he could build a gene sequencer and cloning chamber out back with some twine and a hairclip, it's more why take that kind of risk?
Poor Horace. You have no idea what you were risking with this stones shit, I have to say.
This comes from insomnia; go about your normal business.
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