The scans from the first ultrasound were not completely positive. Brad had never really thought about the possibility of a retarded child before; he was too busy stressing over the costs associated with a newborn. Now that the doctor had explained the prospects Brad struggled to think of anything else. After he'd had time to consider the ultrasound results he wasn’t all that surprised. Although his attraction to his wife ran quite deep, by evolutionary standards she was not his ideal match; there was no way the partner he had chosen would provide the strongest possible offspring. Brad was mesmerised by the Bvlgari scent she wore day in day out, but in no way did it reflect the natural odour he could smell on the inside of her bra strap. He loved his wife’s delicate facial features, but the cute nose he adored was actually a creation of Dr. Sherman Ward, and nothing like the one with which she had struggled through high school. Her smooth brown legs that had caught Brad’s attention ten years prior had been waxed, tanned, and accentuated by two inch heals; they only vaguely resembled the shortish white legs she used to do the gardening. Brad was surprised that birth defects had decreased over past hundred years. Surely he was not alone in his selection of an inappropriate mating partner.