But I think I will buy a baby from a foreign country. Somewhere like Sweden or Norway. An Aryan looking child. Blonde hair and blue eyes. I will pick him up from school and they will ask, “Are you the nanny?” And I will smile sweetly and snap, “No, I’m the mother, got it?” His name will be Muhammad. I will take my child to Western Europe and proudly tell him that once upon a time, his people didn’t shower and believed the world was flat. They ate such exotic and foreign food, like blood sausage and bland rice. He should embrace his culture and learn about the life I saved him from, how awful and impoverished his life could have been! I have such a big heart, and you know, I don’t see race. I might have to learn how to deal with his hair though.