Three models were available for purchase: new-borns, 3-month-olds and 6-month-olds. Both sexes were available, and every race imaginable was in stock and awaiting a new parent to snatch them up.
I had never before contemplated having a baby, but once I saw the display I was overcome with a fierce desire to become a dad. Which beautiful little life would I take home? How old would my new child be? Which race? Which sex? So many decisions had to be made, but I was certain I would be able to make the decision that would best serve my newly discovered desire to be a parent--to start a family.
I immediately resolved to take home a new daughter. Having built a career working in the child care industry, I felt qualified in my decision. Girls mature faster. Girls are usually more rational children. Girls are pretty much perfect minus the onset of adolescence--which can be over-come with time and suave maneuvering and patience. I felt, for the first time, my heart fluttering like a bubble bee in a can of Mountain Dew.
I love new-borns, but their complete dependence on the parent always made me uneasy. I instinctively looked toward the row of 3-month-olds and realized their stage of development would allow me to best imprint myself in the role of father and thus establish a strong bond. A six-month-old might not bond as easily since their development was much farther along.
Which race? Prideful of my open-mindedness and acceptance of diversity, I wasn't hard pressed to take home a Caucasian. Instead I decided to pick the precious little angel who's skin tone most resembled my own.
With all the basic choices taken care of, I reached to the second shelf and retrieved my new daughter. I placed her on my hip and adjusted her pink dress. She smiled, and I melted. I adjusted my hip and snuggled her close to kiss her forehead. It was a good match.
In shock and amazed with my luck, I placed my daughter in my shopping bugging and headed for the check-out stand. I could feel my smile stretching from ear lob to ear lob. A prouder father had never existed, and I wondered if my own father shared the same joy I was now experiencing for the first time.
As I made my way toward the cashier, a friend from work spotted my beautiful daughter and made inquiries. Immediately I was aware of my co-workers dissatisfaction with my choice to become a father. I was peppered with questions about my preparedness to take on the task of parenting and told a retailer like Wal-Mart would surely not be able to provide a quality child.
I was disgusted by the judgmental scorn placed on my child and myself. No one would interfere with my family's happiness! I was determined to protect my baby from the harmful hatred of such a shallow-minded dim-wit.
I walked faster toward the check-out stand and began to worry about financing my purchase. I shared a smiling glance with my baby girl and immediately knew price was not an obstacle. Before I knew it, my credit card was approved and the cashier handed me a receipt.
The drive home was quick and I was still floating on a cloud of contentedness I'd never before experienced. I could feel joy for the first time, but for the first time I realized I had never known joy. Life couldn't be more perfect.
Once home, I introduced my daughter to Toupee and Scratch. I sat on the sofa with my little girl and let the cats become acquainted with their new housemate. They purred with acceptance, and my new home was cemented in perfect glee.
Moments later I realized my precious baby needed a diaper change. Turning to reach for my diaper bag, I was flooded with the frustration of realizing I had forgotten to purchase diapers and supplies. How could I forget?!?
My frustration turned to anger,and suddenly I was awake.
