A Baby is in My Office

A baby just walked into my office. I was just sitting at my computer typing away and a baby walked in. She's adorable. Big pigtails and a bottle. It is the most unbelievably startling and, subsequently, the most awkward thing to be sitting like a normal grown-up business lady in your office and then, all of a sudden, a baby is just standing there.


We just stare at each other for a second. And then I finally say, "Helloooo...what can I do for you today?" She drinks her bottle and stares right back.

Nothing makes your office seem less comfortable than a tiny, round baby. She makes your desk look huge and rickety and dangerous. And you immediately panic because the sockets are not covered, there are scissors within an arm's length in every direction, and you just feel crazy because a baby is in your office. Alone.


Silence. Is anyone coming to claim this baby? Anyone? No? Oh no! She's tipping!!! Bloop! She lands on her hugely swollen diaper and continues to drink her bottle. Still no one.

Just me and the baby. I think about taking her home. As I stated earlier, my house is literally the set from Saw. Mountains of lead-based paint chips line every doorway and nails seem to fall out of the ceiling. "Where am I gonna get a crib?" I wonder. The baby doesn't seem worried, so I'm not gonna be worried.

I think, "If you take her home, she's gonna think you're her mother. When are you going to tell her that you aren't? Ugh. That's a toughie. And how are you going to legally adopt her when you just found her in your office? What's the protocol for a found baby? Probably the police. Definitely the police. Buuuuuuuut the police are so difficult. They'll never let me keep my new baby. It'll have to be a secret. I'll tell my friends that I had a baby at the end of the summer, when I was supposedly at my family reunion. Good, that's good. And that I've just been hiding her until she could walk and hang out."


"Hmm...what should I name her? I can't just call her 'baby' can I? Maybe. Ooh, 'maybe' is a cute name. That is keyoooot. Maybe Fisher."


"When is your birthday little Maybe? Over the summer? Like say June or July. My brother's birthday is June 23rd. Wanna just share with him?"

As I rise to go pick up little Maybe and put her in my tote for the next few hours before I go home, her father enters the room.


"Oh there you are, Olivia. Now that she walks, she just gets away from me," he says.

I am fuming. I don't get to keep baby Maybe! Damn him. Damn it. Damn damn crud. I guess I'll just have to go back to being a single parent of an imaginary baby.