Hi, I'm an ovary
We watch the strangest stuff around here. Possibly the only thing stranger than a couple who intends to remain childless watching a show about human reproduction is hearing said couple's comments during the course of the show.
If someone starts showing me a laparoscopic view of actual human ovary as it's trying to, well, ovulate, of course I'm going to start providing Gary Larson-style commentary:
"Hi, I'm an ovary."
(Perhaps it was funnier if you were there.)
A few minutes later, as the nice little camera image shows the unfertilized egg ambling along toward the uterus:
*hand puppet re-emerges*
"Nothing to see here. Move along!"
* egg cell hesitates. Ambles a bit more. Stops. *
"Move along, we said! Get out of here!"
* egg cell grumbles, sulks a bit, begins to move on. *
All well and good, until the show switched over to shots of male anatomy.
Me: "Do you realize where that camera had to go to get that shot?"
Jeff: "Yeah. Ow."
Me: "You know, I was just tuning in to see the in-womb fetal images, because I thought those would be cool to watch. This is educational, but, uh..."
Jeff: "Yeah. Ow."
Meanwhile, the announcer goes on about all the protective bits male anatomy provides for sperm cells. Special temperature, special pH, special valves to protect them from coming in contact with anything undesirable. As the list goes on, I turn to Jeff and say, "Wow, sperm cells really are pansies."
Bloody well babied, they are.
Compare that to egg cells. Sure, everyone says women are cold-hearted beasts, but man, our ovaries are just downright bitchy. Kind of like Survivor, really; another egg cell gets voted off the ovary every month whether it's ready to go or not. No coddling, no special pH or protective bits, just an air kiss and a "Get out!"
With that kind of care and nurturing to our potential young, it's a wonder we manage to produce offspring at all.
I'm almost afraid to watch the rest of the show now, just for fear of what the hand puppet might say.