The Chase

Last Sunday, September 27, 2009, a  pivotal meeting occurred at my sister’s estate between me and my newest subject.  Our meeting was scheduled to happen shortly after his birth, but my daughter forgot to bring her fake ID and wasn’t allowed in because she’s not my sister’s child or twelve years old.
I’m always in active recruitment for followers. And if my newborn nephew is anything like my sister (every cult leader’s dream) the brainwashing process should happen without any setbacks.At first I try osmosis.

All I have to do is take care of my biggest problem.

I had anticipated competition, with his “biological” parents, but I hadn’t foreseen the intensity. Maniacal zealots! Not only is the kid named Chase (after Philly baseball player Chase Utley…even though his parents refuse to admit so) when I went to change his clothes, I made a horrifying discovery. My options were entirely between baseball-related attire. Did I want to put him in the Tiger/baseball outfit or the one covered in P’s? None of my choices were medically related. No baby scrubs! And the stuffed bladder that I had bought him pre-birth was nowhere to be found!

The sun room is riddles with sports paraphernalia AND a Phillies banner hangs above his crib!

What if he doesn’t like baseball? What if he prefers soccer like the rest of the world? And what if he’s a klutz like me and rather read the dictionary than throw around a ball?

HPIM1754He clings to me for dear life.

“Take me with you,” he says…well that’s what he means to say…if he could speak.

But I told him that he doesn’t want to be a radiologist because they’re weird; that otorhinolaryngology’s okay if he likes mucus; that orthopedic surgery is where the true money is…and…that I will keep a close watch on the others.

I will wait a few months before filing for full custody.

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