Yeah, I Did It (I know it’s bad, it’s supposed to be bad.)

For your approval, my submission to Chicken Soup for the Adopted Soul:

Helen was four years old, she loved her Mother more than anyone else, even her Father. Her Mother was beautiful and made her feel loved and special. When her Mother smiled at her, Helen felt like the best little girl in the world. Helen and her Mother were together almost all the time. Helen helped her Mother with chores, they played together, read books, and watched Sesame Street.

Helen loved her Father very much too. One of the best times of day was when he would come home for dinner. She would hear his truck pull into the driveway, and go running to hide behind the bookshelf by the door. She would wait for him to come through the door and jump into his arms. Daddy would hold her close and give her a kiss on the cheek, he would tell her she was his best girl. He always carried her into the dining room and sat her in her chair. Then he would hug Mother, and sit down to eat. Mother and Daddy would talk about their days and Daddy would ask Helen what she had learned that day. She would tell him about the new words she had learned to read, or about the animals she saw on Wild Kingdom.

Bedtime was Helen’s favorite time. She would brush her teeth, put on her pajama’s, and get into bed, waiting for either Mommy or Daddy to tuck her in. When Daddy came he would read to her. She liked it when Daddy read to her, especially if the books were about dogs. Helen wanted a puppy for her next birthday. But the greatest times were when Mommy would tuck her in. Mommy always told her stories, without books. She told Helen about when she was a little girl, or about the adventures of her four uncles. Helen enjoyed all these stories, but Mommy had one story that she loved more than all the others, the story of how Helen had come to be Mommy and Daddy’s little girl. Helen always asked to hear that story, sometimes Mommy wanted to tell a different story, but when she would agree to tell it, Helen would snuggle down in bed and listen to every word like she was hearing it for the first time.

Mommy would sit close and begin:

A long time ago Daddy and I got married. We loved each other very much and wanted to have a baby. We tried and tried, but nothing happened. After a few years we decided we wanted a baby so much we would adopt one.

We went and talked to the ladies that let the children be adopted. They asked us lots of questions and they decided we could have a baby. We had to wait a long long time. We waited so long we didn’t think there was a baby for us, then one day after we had almost given up, the phone rang. It was the adoption lady and she said that they had a baby for us. She said it was a little girl and asked if that would be all right. We said a little girl was fine.

The very next day, Daddy and I drove a long ways to the hospital. They took us to a room full of babies and showed us the cutest one there, it was you. They let us hold and feed you, but we had to wait two more days to bring you home.

We went home and got your room ready. We were so excited to finally have a baby of our own. Those were the two longest days we could remember. Finally the day came that we could take you home, Daddy, Me, and Grandma Jean drove to the hospital again. The nurses had you all ready to go, they were sad to see you leave, but were glad that you were going with us. Daddy carried you out of the hospital and I held you on the car ride, Grandma sat in the backseat. She didn’t get to hold you until we got home.

You’ve been our own little girl ever since.

Helen always had good dreams when Mommy told the story.

Once she had asked Mommy if all babies come from the hospital. Mommy said, no not all babies do, some grow in their Mommy’s tummy’s but they usually stay in the hospital a few days when they are first born. Mother went on to say that Helen hadn’t grown in her tummy, but had grown in her heart.

One day Helen had to stay at the neighbor’s house while Mommy went to the doctor. Helen liked to go the the neighbor’s, Laura lived there, she was twelve and was nice to her. She wanted to be like Laura when she was a big kid. Helen had so much fun she didn’t even realize that she missed her Mother until she came to pick her up.

Mommy was very happy. She told Helen that she had a big surprise for her and Daddy tonight. Mommy sang to herself as she made dinner, she didn’t usually do that, and Daddy came home early, Helen didn’t even have time to hide. When they sat down, Mommy said she had news. She said she was pregnant. Helen didn’t know what pregnant meant, but Daddy jumped up and hugged Mommy. Mommy explained that a while from now, after it started to get cold outside again, Helen would have a new brother or sister. Daddy said it would be even better than a puppy. Helen wanted a little brother or sister to play with, she was happy.

Things began to change, Helen helped Mommy paint the guest room, they had to wear old clothes and she got paint on her nose. They painted it yellow because they didn’t know if it would be for a boy or a girl. When Momy’s friends came over they asked how Mommy was feeling and always asked Helen if she was looking forward to having a brother or sister. She always said yes.

Them Mommy started to get fat. Mommy told Helen that it was because the baby was growing in her tummy. Mommy said that she would have t go to the hospital soon, Helen would stay with Grandma, and she and Daddy would come home with the baby. Helen asked if she had grown in someone’s tummy. Mommy said, yes she had grown in someone’s tummy, but she had loved her so much that she gave Helen to Mommy and Daddy because they wanted a baby so badly. Helen had never thought about growing in another peron’s tummy before, she had thought she just came from the hospital.

Mommy got even bigger and people started to come over and bring presents for the baby, but almost never for Helen. Helen worried that everybody would love the baby more than her because it grew in Mommy’s tummy. Everybody seemed so busy she never got to ask about them still loving her. Sometimes she thought about it before she went to sleep and worried that they would take her back to the hospital.

Then one day, Daddy came home from work early, he looked scared, they all got in the car and Helen stayed at the neighbor’s house until Grandma came to pick her up. They told her that Mommy and Daddy would be back in two days with her new bother or sister. Helen had fun at Grandma’s, they baked cookies and Grandma told her stories about when she was a baby. Grandma also told her that she would have to help Mommy with the new baby.

Helen got to sleep in the big girl’s bed in Garndma’s guest room. Grandma woke her up very early and said that she had a new baby sister. They would go to the hospital soon so she could see her. Helen had breakfast and Grandma helped her put on her church dress to go to the hospital. She told her that she waouldn’t get to see Mommy, but Daddy would come and show her her new sister. Helen wanted to see Daddy, but was afraid they would leave her at the hospital.

It was a long drive to the hospital in Grandma’s big old car. When they got there Daddy was waiting. He picked Helen up and hugged her, he told her how much he had missed her, and that he loved her. He sat her down and took her by the hand, he led her to a room that was inside, but was all windows. Helen was too short to see in, so Daddy picked her up. The room was full of babies.

He pointed to the cutest one and said that was her new sister. Daddy said that he loved both of them more than anything in the world. That was when Helen knew that all babies do come from the hospital, and grow in your heart.




Sorry just had to get that out.

I’m so full of shit.


13 thoughts on “Yeah, I Did It (I know it’s bad, it’s supposed to be bad.)

  1. Considering these are the guidelines: “Stories must be true, inspirational, 1,000 words or less. They should be positive, universal, and non-controversial. “………..

    How much you bet they print that? What’cha gonna do with the $200 they send you?

  2. If they print it, I thought I’d take a poll here on what should be done with the money.

    Donation to an ethical adoption group?
    Maybe give it to Amy to help pay for her CI fees?

    If you all lived closer, I’d throw us a party.

    I’m open to suggestions.

  3. Not a word of it, ‘tunia. It’s all true.

    Being such a crack literary critic, you must know that many times writer’s will use a perspective from their past. It a very common device used to build characters, and change the writer’s voice. Freelancers call it the “give the editors what they want” trick.

    Having said that, my perspective has changed considerably since I was 4 years-old. It’s called having an adult perspective. It’s about growth. Maybe it’s something you should explore.

  4. I guess you should always write like a four year old – it makes you sound like such a nice person. I guess if you read my last post you realize I am happy even as an adult – you should try that.

  5. Oh but ‘tunia, I’m the nicest person of all. My friends are nice people too.

    I suppose you take whatever you can understand from what you read, and that’s alright, I thought I was being straight forward when I wrote that I’m happy most of the time. You did see that, didn’t you?

    If you really want to give my work a fair critique, you should probably read all of it. It’s a perspective thing, again. Picking and choosing passages and refusing to recognize humor tends to make people think that you are small minded and have an agenda. I know you’re much to smart for that.

  6. Why don’t you follow that advice and read my backlog, you would realize I don’t hate my biological family. You would also see that 1. I’m not a writer (which you so nicely pointed out) and 2. I don’t appreciate mean sarcasm.

    I find that when people are mean and sarcastic, they tend to not be very happy people. I didn’t come on your blog and start this. It must have hit a nerve because you like metal…that’s not what I am opposed to. I don’t have anything in common with people who wear goth clothing, talk about satan (even if they are not satanists) and have a strange lifestyle. I’m sorry if that offends you.

  7. Please point out where I said you hated your bio-family. Oh wait, you can’t because you deleted all the comments on your blog. That’s convenient. And cowardly. You know I never said anything of the kind.

    And I really don’t care what you think of any lifestyle, you were the one that put it out there. Since you have comment on my blog in the past, no wait, you commented on someone else’s comment, I felt that your were open to an exchanged of ideas. It seems that you would prefer to preach to the choir, so to speak. I’ll take that under consideration before commenting on your blog in the future.

    Please feel free to come here and comment whenever you wish. I do enjoy our exchanges. Since I neither edit or delete comments, I think you’ll agree , it makes for a better platform for discourse. After all willingness to engage in fair play is a sign of both good character and confidence, two essential ingredients in true happiness and satisfaction.

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