Creating Divinity with Poultry and Awkward Accompaniment

You can edit your baby!

You can give him to the doctor and say, "I like his mouth but his nose SUCKS. Make it prettier!"

And the doctor will get rid of the offending nose and toss it in the garbage

And sculpt a lovely new one out of one of our fine, choice raw materials

and tape it on the face.

"It shouldn't make mistakes, it shouldn't have to be imperfect," you can say.

The doctor can make the baby's head not grow hair with some well-placed plastic equipment

And if you want, you can have the baby dyed blue, orange, magenta, or plaid.

Magenta would be best.

Then, the baby's limbs can be elongated until each limb is 70 feet or so in length,

and we shall turn the newborn loose in the feilds.

He'll wobble around.

He won't ever grow old because we gave him chemicals that won't let him.

So forever he'll be wobbling around in the forest and the park, this giant baby.

Limbs to rival the trees.

Hands big enough to theoretically pat you on the head

Or snip your life with big enough scissors