The Adoption of Unreasonable Tykes

This waif-world is adopted. It was sewn together with patches torn from consequences. Old Mother Reality took it in out of the cold nowhere. She feeds it now, but only the food that it is ready to eat mostly it's puppy food and an all-purpose applesauce. Like any infants, the earth as we understand it, wails and throws up, plays with toys that are dangerous, ends up with chocolate cake all over its face. Old Mother Reality wipes its confused mug (and sometimes its ****), teaches it one small acceptable wishy-washy truth at a time, and hopes the world grows up before she lets it go play in the street alone.