Daddeh took you out of the alley, and into the road.
“Bettew nu cwose to homsies iwf bad hoomin find us.” He said, taking you at least a block away. Towering above you were creatures walking on two legs. Were these “hoomins”? When a car rolled by you squealed.
“Wowd munstah!”
“Is nu munstah, is caw, wiww nu huwt iwf nu cwose.”
Even still, you kept your eye out. Daddeh himself took a seat against the wall, nudging you between his legs.
“Daddeh need yuo to wook at evewy hoomin daddeh tawks too. Wen hoomin see babbeh eyesies dey want to gib homsies mowe.”
“Okway daddeh.”
And that’s just what you do. For a forever you and daddeh sit on the sidewalk, daddeh asking every passing hoomin for homsies for him and you. You lock your eyes with each of them, and it seems daddeh is right. They hear his words, but what they’re looking at is you, the cute babbeh. Sometimes, he would even grab you and follow a hoomin for a bit, begging.
“Pwease gib homsies to daddeh and babbehs! Wook! Is nu twick! Hab babbeh hewe!”
And he’d lift you up, presenting you.
“Yup, he’s definitely yours. Can’t take a full family though, apartment’s too small.”
That was the most polite rejection you received all day. Of the five that didn’t just ignore you. It was later in the day that you met the last one. You remembered him as the man with the black and green munstah hat, holding in his hands a cup of something brown. As usual, daddeh called out to him.
“Pwease nice mistah! Fwuffy and babbehs need homsies and nummies!”
The man stopped and turned, a good sign. More than you had gotten from most others.
“Homsies huh?”
“Yes! Hab speshaw fwiend and babbehs, babbehs need nummies and homsies. Be nyu daddeh?”
“Hang on a sec…”
Like magic he made appear a black rectangle, and shoved it in your face. Pressing something behind it.
“Ha! I’m sending this to Trisha! ‘Blue bean and his shitrat kid!’”
“Hoo Twisa?” Daddeh asked, “Twisa nyu mummah?”
You’re still sitting, looking up at the hoomin. You say nothing, but there’s something stirring. A bad feeling.
“Heh… noooo nononono… I am not your new ‘daddeh’.” With that he turned back and walked away, chuckling.
Daddeh dipped is head.
“Okay… onwy wanted housie… am bad daddeh…”
The man stopped, turned his head, and began to walk back. Had he had a change of heart? Would he be your new daddeh? He bent down, to the two of you.
“Yeah… you are a bad daddeh aren’t you. Having kids out here in the city… maybe not the “bestest” idea. In fact, let me take care of that for you.”
He upturned his cup, sending the brown sludge on top of daddeh.
“Scree! Nu wike watuh! Is bad fo fwuffies!”
“It’s not water, shitbag, it’s a Caramel Frappuccino worth more than your baby could ever be worth. Which now makes me realize I shouldn’t have dumped it out on something as worthless as you… eh, whatever. Hope it stains, heard the “poopie” fluffies don’t do too well out here. I also heard that this is a good fix for any unwanted small vermin.”
Moving the cup over you, he brought it down. With a chuckle he walked away, for good, leaving you trapped inside a plastic prison.
