Buyer's Guide to Black-Market Babies

My wife and I agreed to never have children, but when the doctors told us it was impossible we changed our minds: Why shouldn't WE be parents? Fertility doctors determined that my wife’s wandering ovaries were to blame- and not the Thunderous Flagstaff that dangles down my pant leg. So we decided to adopt. But who?

First Baby - Mary

Mary was an infant from Kansas who had been abandoned by her underage, cross-eyed, glue-sniffing mother in a dumpster behind the 31 Flavors. Mary’s first word was “jizzbah,” which myself, my wife, and the Department of Social Services all agreed was weird. She was kicked out of kindergarten after force-feeding tater tots to the class hamster- the autopsy is still pending. Since then Mary has been home-schooled, which is to say she stays home instead of going to school. My wife and I soon became bored with her antics and rediscovered the biological urge to acquire another child.

Second Baby – Miko

Time to go international. Miko was a Japanese orphan and very reasonably priced. She came with her own travel pouch and a side order of onion rings. Knowing an Asian child’s penchant for the violin the wife and I headed off to the Music Store… unfortunately we were only able to afford a ukele, which I accidentally demolished the day Miko began to play. A curious child, Miko's favorite hobby was sticking her finger into electrical sockets with predictably hilarious results. She spoke in Literal Grammar, which means she verbally stated all commas, periods, and punctuation marks. Fun to be sure semicolon but we wanted more period

Third Baby – Makumba


Things were getting downright nutty at this point, so we knew a bold move was in order. Makumba was a Haitian refugee we bought used from Angelina Jolie, and he quickly became the toast of the neighborhood. Instead of a spoken language Makumba communicated through a series of clicks, whistles, and meaningful bladder accidents. When frightened, he would climb telephone poles and refuse to come down for days at a time. Makumba was famous for slapping the neighborhood children just for the crack of it. There was no way to top ourselves now… or was there?

Fourth Baby – The Bear


A mistake from the get-go. The Bear wasn’t so much an adopted child as he was a bear, and by that I mean he promptly devoured Mary, Miko & Makumba upon arrival at the house. Before Animal Control put 67 bullets into him, The Bear ate my wife’s spleen and pancreas, leaving her paralyzed from the ankles up. I got off lucky as he only devoured my genitals. My wife and I survive and lead a rich and fulfilling life, but to be honest there are days I miss my Thunderous Flagstaff.  The kids, too. Parenthood is like a midnight ride on a motorboat, but I forget how.