Disclaimer: I do not own all the Pokemon characters. All copyright reserves and credit belong straight to the creator Satoshi Tajiri.

Thank you

Peace

CRASH!

That was the sound of the china bowl being smashed against the wall by Bud. Bud is our newly adopted 2-your son. CRASH! Now he's broken another cup. And now he's screaming at the top of his lungs, "HUNGRY!"

I know what you're thinking: How did we end up with a wild child like Bud? The truth is, Bud wasn't always like this. You thought Oh really? Well, it's true. He didn't act like this when we first got him. Sort of. Let me back up my story a little...

It all started when May and I heard the news that our good friends Tracey and Misty Sketchit had a beautiful baby girl named Verona. We were not getting any younger, you know.

May and I wanted children too, but my wife doesn't want to go through the process of making one (which is a total bummer to me), so we decided to adopt.

We went over to the orphanage to pick out s child. There were a lot of kids, but nothing we like. We then found ourselves in a strange locked up door.

"What's this?" May asked.

"Oh this?" Said the nun. "I wouldn't try that if I were you."

"Why?" I peeked inside the room.

Suddenly, a shriek came across and a pack of crayons was thrown across the room. I quickly closed the door before they could hit me. "Whoa!" I said.

"What?" May asked.

"See that sign?" The nun said, pointing to a sign at the door. "Adopt him at your own risk."

Okay, that's a little weird. Why on Earth would anyone say something like that to a child?

"No one has been able to control that wild child since he has been left off here at an infant!" The nun pointed out.

I thought about this. I helped stubborn Poke'mon before. Maybe I could help a child like this one.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Bud, I guess." The nun answered.

"You know what? We'll take him. We'll adopt him!"

"What? Brock, are you crazy?" May looked at me in surprise.

"I think this little guy just needs a little love, that's all. I think that's why he's having a tantrum. Think about it, we want a kid, now's our chance."

"Okay." May agreed.

"He's your full responsibility! Don't blame me when things go bad!" The nun said as she handed us the adoption papers.

So we got ourselves a little boy. Bud is our responsibility now. What could go wrong? Well, the answer immediately came at us as soon as we bought him home.

Bud was a handful. He did a lot of things. He ran around the house, knocking over things. In occasion times, he ran around in his birthday suit. Once he ran into the streets while he was still bare and covered in soap. May had to chase and catch him. A driver in his car yelled at her and told her to control her kid. Bud messed around with paint a little. He did a masterpiece on the living room wall...and on our biggest Pokemon, including Steelix. Though Golem seemed to be pleased with his new color. Bud gave my Ninetails a new haircut! Max wouldn't want to babysit his new nephew anymore because Bud keeps hiding his glasses. Bud had already drove four nannies out of the house, even drove our moms, his grandmothers and aunties (my younger sisters) crazy.

Bud was pretty wild these days. Of course, he's getting a little energetic every day, not to mention demanding. He would cry and throw tantrums until he gets what he demands. In fact, he screamed so loud, the neighbors went over to complain. Officer Jenny warned us three times that if we can't tame our child, she would have to either call child welfare and take Bud away or ask us to leave the community and move to a different place. May and I began to worry.

One evening, after being worn out from child caring, we found Bud jumping on our bed. We asked him sweetly to get off the bed and offered to tuck him in, but Bud brashly resisted and shrieked that he wants to sleep in the adult bed for tonight.

We reluctantly gave in and told him he can sleep there for one night. We left and decided to sleep in the living. The sofa is a little uncomfortable. May plopped on the easy chair and switched on the TV. I laid the sofa, thinking what am I going to do with our son, Bud...

The next morning, I woke up from the couch. May was asleep on the easy chair. The television was still on. I cracked my neck as I walked down the hallway, on my way to check on our newly adopted son. I opened the bedroom door. "Bud?" I whispered.

I opened the door all the way, Bud was not in bed. "Bud? Bud?" I looked in the bedroom. Then I searched in the bathroom, his room, all over the house. "Bud!" There was no sign of him. I began to worry. "Bud!" I shouted. I ran to the backyard door. May stirred up a little.

I looked outside and to my relief, Bud was snoozing at the flower bed. Apparently he had already started his day of mischief by digging around May's flowers. I approached him. "Hey there you are, buddy! You shouldn't be out here, I was really worried!"

Bud did not answer me. He was still sleeping but I'm pretty sure he heard me. I started to pick me up. "What do you say we clean you up before..." But when I held him, Bud felt pretty warm. Warmer than the sofa after a Super Bowl Finale Sunday! He was moaning softly. I carried my son inside and laid him on the couch. I took his temperature, it was 103! Dangerously high for a small child about Bud's age! "My God..." I said softly.

"What's wrong my baby?" May asked with worry.

"Our son's life may be in danger! Dial 911!" I shouted.

May wasted no time dialing the emergency number. I placed the ice watered soaked towel on my son's forehead, hoping to cool down the fever. He whimpered in pain in agony. "Hang on, Bud," I said to him softly. "You're going to be okay."

The ambulance finally arrived. I hope we aren't too late. Bud was taking to the hospital. The doctors and Chanseys and Blisseys worked on him all morning.

May and I anxiously sat in the waiting, praying our son will make it. Our parents, Flint, Lola, Norman, and Caroline, and friends, Ash, Dawn, Tracey, Misty, Max, Ritchie, and Gary were with us, comforting us and also praying that Bud will live. (Misty's sisters were at home watching their baby daughter.)

May and I held on to each other in sadness, rocking back and forth in our seats. The words, we're bad parents! We're bad parents! kept repeating in our heads.

Finally, the red needle neon sign dimmed as a sign that the operation is over. Doctor Proctor and the Chanseys and Blisseys exited the room. May and I asked him about our son. Everyone anxiously waited for the answer. The doctor smiled and assured us that our son will be okay. He's lucky that we bought him just in time. Everybody beamed in relief.

May and I rejoiced and hugged each other that we're not such bad parents after all. We visited our son in the room. Bud was fast asleep on the bed. I sat down next to him and whispered "I love you, my son." My hand was next to his head. Bud work up and took my hand softly. "Me wove you boo!"

I smiled as I felt like a real dad! Just like my old man! (Except I won't leave him just to become a Pokemon trainer.) May smiled happily as she too felt like a real mother.

After Bud recovered, we started to have fun. We took him to the park, played with the other kids and Poke'mon. Though he's still a little mischievous, but he's a good boy. We introduced him to his new playmate, 9-month-old Verona Sketchit. Bud even got to play with the rock and steel Poke'mon! I think he'll become the next Pewter City gym leader.

At sundown, Me, my wife, and our son strolled down the park, holding hands. Bud giggled between us. May and I looked at each other. "You think we'll be okay?" She asked.

I smiled. "I think we'll do just fine."

May smiled back. It's going to be tough being a parent, but with enough love, we will pull though and it's going to be rewarding.