Phillip was an only child living with his parents in a leafy suburb. He was a weedy little boy, more interested in books and computers than sporting activities, but he was kind and caring, and few people managed to dislike him.
His parents worked hard - his father was a builder, and his mother an accountant - and after years of hard work and careful money management they had finally paid off the house and they could afford to expand their little family.
It's only been a few months since Philip's mother has been pregnant. This morning seemed like any other until she shared the news from the Doctor's office at the breakfast table to both him and his father.
"I ... have some bad news," she announced sadly, preparing them for what she was going to say next. "The doctor says I can't carry the baby. Apparantly if I hold it for more than a few hours I will most likely miscarriage."
"Is the baby alright?" her husband asked, worried.
"The baby is fine," she smiled sadly, "it's me that's the problem. Someone else will have to carry the baby to term, and I'd prefer it to be one of you two."
Her husband sighed.
"It will have to be Phillip. We all know I am in no way able to carry with my line of work."
She nodded, understanding his position. She turned to her son.
"So how does my little man feel about this. Can you do this for me?"
Phil smiled at his mother.
"Of course. How could I possibly say no?"
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