I was three years old when I adopted a new family for my sister and me. After giving my birth parents numerous opportunities to do right by us, it was a no brainer of a decision to make. We concluded that they were unable to take care of us and that we should cut our loses and move on. We selected several foster care families to stay with while we searched for more suitable parents.
Staying together would be a hard bargain—perhaps a deal breaker—for some of the prospective families we intended to interview would only want a boy; but, we were counting on my lovable little boy routine to persuade them of our cause.
I located a prospective family that I found suitable and arranged a time for us to meet. I chose a time that was convenient for all of us and met them at my favorite place—the Fair Park Zoo. We met in front of the monkey house.
The man was muscular, tall, and sported wavy black hair. His partner was an attractive woman—about five foot nine who was light featured with dark black hair as well. They seemed nervous yet excited. They were eager to engage us in conversation and were very friendly. I interviewed them in front of ‘Charlie the Chimp’.
I wasn’t necessary for us to say much. Adults don’t expect much of three-year olds. For my part I let them know I was attached to my sister and showed them enough interest to get invited to spend the weekend with them. I indicated to the state social worker that this would fine. They showed us a good time, bought each of us a pair of shoes and took us to church the next day. Over the weekend I decided to go with my gut feeling and decide that they should be the parents who would take care of us for the next 15 years. I had a judge make it official and we were good to go.
Now that I had found a suitable family, I would begin teaching them how to properly raise us all.