Clone a Worm Already

A* not awake even 15 minutes before I haul the conversation around to my agenda and ask if he e-mailed his AP bio teacher last night. He groaned. No, he hadn’t, but when pressed said he could possibly speak to him after class. My . . . whoops, I mean his mission is to find out if there are any biology- or physics-related extracurricular activities he could participate in. My husband shakes his head in sympathy. “Hey, couldn’t you just clone a worm or something?” he asks A. The big difference is that he is kidding, I am not.