We have a couple we are friends with that are in the process of adopting. It’s still a long wait away, but I’ve been talking to the kids about it. Today, I told Alex, this is the resulting conversation.
Alex: I want us get a baby!
You want a baby?
Who’s going to take care of the baby?
Me! Alex will
Now a quick aside. Alex struggles with saying his name. It sounds more like AL-dicks when he says it, so between that and his inability to write, I’m pretty certain we won’t be getting a baby any time soon. We have no current or future adoption plans at this time, and the natural way has been closed down my friends. That ship has sailed, no turning back, that is one doodle that can’t be undid home skillet. Unless I guess vas deferens grow back together or something. I mean I’m still on birth control for non-birth control reasons, but I’m not always reliable with the EXACT SAME TIME EVERYDAY thing at this point (point in case, I forgot to pick it up this week on time), and based on our previous conception rate, I’m pretty sure the urologist did a good job. I hope.
Who is going to change its diapers?
Uh, giggle, giggle, giggle, Daddy! giggle giggle giggle
Really, that’s interesting; clearly you have no recollection of how diaper duty went down at our house, that’s cool. Uh, so where is your baby going to sleep?
Ok, you’re going to get up at night with this baby right?
I’ll take that as a yes, so do you want a baby like your teacher Ms. Elizabeth’s baby?
No! I want a baby Jesus!
Oh, nice, well who’s going to dress your baby?
Since AL-dicks is only 3, and still puts his pants on backwards, and struggles with all other clothing, I’m pretty sure I’ve found the flaw in his plan. I’m about to call victory and gloat. So what it’s a victory against a 3 year old, I don’t have a lot of social interaction or competition these days, I’ll take what I can get. Besides, he’s got to get used to losing at some point, right?
No, he no need to dress, Baby Jesus no wear clothes.
Well, yeah, I guess I can’t argue with that. That also saves you money on buying clothes, so I guess that gets me off the hook in all this.
He can be Berkeley’s friend! (Berkeley is our dog)
So if anyone out there is looking for someone to raise their kid named Jesus, doesn’t mind he’ll be raised by someone with only a marginal grasp of language communication and preschool education level, be naked all the time, might only have his diaper changed sporadically, will probably be fed mostly a diet of fruit snacks, chips, and pretzels that are contraband from our pantry self, and that he’ll be the playmate of our dog, just let us know.