The Social Worker

It was just one of those days that Murphy seems to live in your pocket. It should have been accepted as a bad omen when the bathroom sink attacked her before work. Ignoring this sign she went to work anyway. Someone logged onto her unattended computer at work and posted some embarrassing comments on the office message board under her name. So people were snickering behind her back all day, or at least it felt like it. Then she got a phone call from Daisy's principal because she fell asleep in class and had to stay late assisting the janitor.

The topper for the day was the unscheduled surprise home inspection sprung on her by the social worker. So much for promises. The social worker arrived at nine o'clock, hours later than expected, looking exhausted. And she was not alone. In her arms she held a tiny brown skinned baby boy.



The social worker only said three things to Alice before leaving.

"His name is Frank."

"His parents have fled the country to avoid being arrested for selling counterfeit designer diapers."

"If you could keep him for the night I will just go ahead and write up a favorable home inspection report and mail a copy back to you."



After the social worker left Alice turned to take the baby to lay him down in the crib, he was already asleep. Once there she stood staring at the spot where the crib had been blearily trying to remember what had happened to it. Then she remembered Daisy was negotiating the sale of the no longer surplus item with a young couple at the street where she had placed it just this morning with a "For Sale" sign taped to it.




She just barely caught them in time. The crib was already being loaded into the back of their minivan. A brief tug of war ensued as Alice fought to retrieve the piece of furniture. They managed to convince the young couple to look elsewhere. But Alice's dream of using the money to buy a barbeque grill had been doused.





Frank; Artistic, athletic, likes classical music, lobster thermidor, and violet