I’ve been teaching second grade for about fifteen years, and in that time I’ve heard plenty of interesting stories during show-and-tell. I always let students bring whatever they want—pet turtles, model airplanes, photos of fish they caught—anything that helps them get comfortable speaking in front of the class. One day, however, a very bright and outgoing girl named Erica waddled to the front with a pillow stuffed under her sweater and a picture of an infant in her hand. “This is Luke, my baby brother,” she announced proudly. “And I’m going to tell you about his birthday.”

She explained that first her mom and dad made him “as a symbol of their love,” then her dad “put a seed in Mom’s stomach” and Luke grew there for nine months, eating through an “umbrella cord.” The class watched in amazement while I tried my best not to laugh. Erica then began acting out the story, groaning and waddling around the classroom to imitate her mother going, “Oh, oh, oh!” around the house when the baby was ready to come.

Then she told us her dad called the “middle wife,” the lady who delivers babies. Acting everything out, Erica lay against the wall like her mom in bed and suddenly shouted “Pop!” to describe the bag of water breaking everywhere. With dramatic gestures and sound effects, she explained how the “middle wife” told her mom to push and breathe while everyone counted.

Finally, she proudly declared that her baby brother came out covered in “yucky stuff from Mom’s play-center,” and that the “middle wife” even spanked him for crawling up in there in the first place. After finishing her performance, Erica took a big theatrical bow and sat down while the class burst into laughter. I’m pretty sure I applauded the loudest—and ever since that day, I always bring a camcorder to show-and-tell, just in case another “middle wife” story comes along.