I Could Have Been A Kingpin

I hadn’t had a chance to amass much of a criminal record before I was adopted. Being only weeks old, I was still too green to score a gat on the street, it limited my scope of mayhem.  Good thing adoption got to me before the criminal element did, or I could be running a cocaine fueled, weapons dealing, legitimate government overthrowing, human trafficking racket.

Adoption saved me from all that, and I’m grateful. Instead of worrying about stuff like the price of hand held rocket launchers and social engineering, I can worry about my mortgage and if I need a new pair of shoes. It’s brilliant, I’m comfortable and complacent, instead of planning my next move, I’m writing a blog post that will be read by a bunch of comfortable, complacent, mortgage holders.

Adoption works. It wins the hearts and minds of adoptees, it turns us into members of society with something to lose. It’s successful nation building on a micro-scale. It makes us part of the thing that took our identities in the first place. They even give us a month to celebrate our status.

Having a month devoted to your social status is a real good way to determine that they did something really shitty to you at some point, and they still haven’t made up for it. So welcome to Adoption History Month , er National Adoption Month.