Brace Yourself.

Humor me and play along, please:

Ever since Cabbage Patch Kids were "The Must Have Toy" in Christmas '81, I've always wanted one. And years later when this "it" toy had faded and became available everywhere, I finally got a hold of one. But it didn't feel the same: it was one manufactured in a factory somewhere in China or Japan (probably by some poor 13 year old child). I wanted an original kid, made by hand in Cleveland, Georgia, the original home of the Cabbage Patch Kids.

28 years later, the dream came true: over the weekend, Paul (who bit his tongue to stay silent) and I hopped on a plane, rented a car, and drove to Cleveland and went to "Babyland General Hospital", where the original kids were "delivered" and available for adoption.

There were so many kids to choose from: both girls and boys, with red, brown, blonde, or no hair at all, eyes of blue, brown, hazel, or green, with unique first and middle names and descriptions that made their "personality" come to life.

I fell for one. Hiis name: Arnie Carver. He was a "preemie", "born prematurely in an early frost in the Cabbage Patch."

His smile cracked me up. His tiny and helpless arms were open and screaned, "Please take me home!" I had to have him.

I filled out and signed the "adoption papers", paid the "adoption fee" and received his "birth certificate." In the "adoption office," I was asked to raise my right arm and repeat an "oath to be the best father to him." I conceded.

As hysterical and ludicrous as all this sounds to you, the most ubelievable part follows: because of that oath I took, I feel a crazy-stupid bond to Arnie. I now am embarassingly attached to him, as he sits in his onesie on our living room couch, just smiling away, with big, adorable, and innocent eyes.

His facial expression completey cracks me up!