When I was in junior high, all of the girls had to take a home economics class which involved various sewing projects (i.e.: torture for me) and partake in the obligatory egg baby assignment. The egg baby assignment involved hallowing out an egg, which was marked with either a b or g on the bottom (for boy or girl), then decorating your egg baby however you choose, usually with yarn and markers. We were required to take care of our egg babies for a week, take them with us to classes (despite the many protests from the teachers of the more academic classes), and keep a journal of their day, when they ate, what they did. We were required to obtain and pay a babysitter if we needed to be away from our egg babies. The whole project was insulting and irritating to me. It was designed to be an anti-teen pregnancy lesson. I had never even kissed a boy, and certainly did not want to be accused of having sex (or being careless if I were) in this intrusive assumption. It was totally sexist, the boys never had to carry around egg babies, or take home economics (which teaches young boys that babies aren’t their problem, and that sewing is torture only for girls?). I thought it was a ridiculous way to spend my time, I’d rather be bouncing on my bed to “egg raid on mojo”, than carting around some hallowed out egg. And I for sure was not going to pay anyone to hang out with said hallowed out egg. My egg baby journal was a beautiful work of fiction, with stories of peek-a-boo games we would play, and I had my friends sign off on babysitting for the egg, attesting to being paid for their hard work. Long gone are the days of pre-teens ignoring their eggs. Now junior high girls get to tote around a Real Care baby , which actually cries, poops, and needs to be feed. These dolls are apparently so realistic that one girl crashed her car when her baby was crying in the backseat. Now I know I drive like a maniac when Oliver is crying in the backseat. It is distracting, and it actually is distressing because he is a real live baby who really needs to be fed, or changed, or calmed. I would have thrown the doll out the window before I crashed my car because of it. Poor girl, I doubt she will ever, ever have sex now.