He found the baby buried in his backyard. A red-tailed hawk was eying those tiny bean-like toes wiggling in the grass, so the man rushed from his kitchen and plucked that ball of flesh right from the soil. Once he brushed off all the loose dirt, he plopped the plump baby square on his solid oak butcher block dining table top. As the baby squirmed and squealed with joy, kicking its little chubby feet, the man wondered who would earth such a handsome healthy baby and was struck with the realization that this murmuring infant was now his responsibility. The task was daunting and unexpected, but nonetheless, he committed himself to the appropriate research. He scoured Reddit and Youtube, and started following all the top mommy influencers for guidance on the proper care for what must have been a three to six-month-old baby, according to WHO weight and height standards. The smiling baby rocked on his yoga mat, cooing and kicking—a suggested Instagram post said that was a sign the baby was learning how to roll-over—and the man suddenly felt a connection with this living being, something strange and comforting. 

This baby was surely misplaced. So, with the baby strapped to his chest in an old, barely used, camping backpack, he postered missing baby fliers all over his neighborhood. He checked for leads on the town Facebook group, which he had always been a member of, and had kept notifications silent for, for years. But no one offered any indication anyone was missing a baby. He neglected to mention he had found this chunky boy, figuring surely someone would have noticed a misplaced baby, and crossing his fingers no one had. The way the situation was unfolding, it was looking more and more like the baby was now his. He was pleased because he and the baby were bonding—he was convinced the baby recognized his voice. He cleared out his extra bedroom and painted the nursery with colors suggested by his now favorite influencer on Instagram. He baby-proofed the house and limited his screen time to prevent secondhand exposure. He bought a crib and secured all the baby essentials: a diaper bag, an Ergobaby Omni Breeze Baby Carrier, a Baby Bjorn bouncer, a monthly diaper delivery, as well as a two-year commitment to the highest rated Montessori-based toy subscription boxes, just for starters. 

After finishing his daily morning fifteen-minute tummy-time session, he realized the baby didn’t have a name. This child was now family, he thought as he placed the sleeping boy in his convertible crib. The man sprawled out on the floor beside his sleeping son and stared at the ceiling wondering if there were others, how many babies in the ground ready to be found.

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