For your sake, let’s not imagine the biological implications too vividly here.

Once women — and by extension, their partners — reach a certain age, the procreation question becomes inevitable. Should we? Can we? When? How many? How will this affect our careers, our finances, our lifestyle, our happiness? (And this obviously doesn’t even have to be a “we” and “our” conversation; it can just as easily be a “me” and “my” one instead.)

But what if, in the name of equality, this was a less one-sided conversation? What if through some breakthrough, the burdens and privileges of childbirth could be shared equally by both genders, and it was up to each parent to choose who carries each child?

If male, would you want to have this experience?
If female, would you be willing to give it up?

What would the societal side-effects be?
Would there be a weird “favorite child” effect?
Would people fight or even litigate over who gets to, or has to, carry a child?
How else would families work differently?

Playing an instrument is the least interesting answer, but still valid.

In a piece called “Bringing Up Genius”, about a family of chess prodigies whose parents started them young, practiced with them constantly, and produced some of the world’s top players, we hear from some experts who make the argument that any child can be exceptional with the right amount of dedication and guidance. Others say it’s a combination of inborn talents and practice; not all who put in the “Ten Thousand Hours” will become great, not all who become great have to practice nearly that much to achieve that greatness.

But this line of research is only so useful: it’s too late for us adults to put these findings to use on ourselves, really. (Although one example, a man who quit his job to practice golf for 10,000 hours in an attempt to go pro, makes for a fun anecdote.) It is however, fun to imagine what could have gone differently. Our answers, looking back, tell us what we really value now that we wish we had known sooner in life.

If you could change one thing about how you were raised, what would you wish your family had done differently?

How would that make a difference in your life today?

Would you be a “better” person, or just a different one? 

Also rising: awkward mornings after.

A seemingly depressing statistic about young adults’ living situation comes from Fusion, who say:

The never-ending sleep-over continued in 2014: the share of 25-34 year-olds living with their parents increased again last year, new Census data show.

The overall ratio for this group climbed to 14.7% from 13.9%.

Here’s the chart, which is broken down by gender. Interestingly, the share of 18-24 year-olds who are living at home continued to decline, to 54.9% from 55.3%, which likely reflects extended schooling for this group.

As a non-homebound adult, my heart goes out to these souls whose growth has been stunted by lack of opportunity in the modern work force. But if the situation is this dire, considerations must be made.

If you have to live at home as an adult, what rules would you impose to stay sane while still living with your parents?

Are there unexpected benefits beyond saving on room and board? What are the biggest drawbacks?

How will living at home that much longer end up affecting this generation, for better or worse?