Third World 'Toddies'

I had this write-up in mind ages ago when adoption of African kids first captured the imagination of Tinseltown, and it conveniently escaped my memory until I rediscovered it among my scribbles recently. Still an engaging read, I imagine. You be the judge…

If you thought I meant a warm, tingly beverage import from Sub-Saharan Africa, South America or the poorer parts of East Asia which you could savour in your mouth before retiring to bed at night, you would be forgiven. The word really is a personal corruption, and the objects I intend it for are indeed pleasant little servings of joy that do leave you feeling all warm and tingly inside. Furthermore, they’re better animated than the most sophisticated Asimo™ robot, are able to receive and reciprocate affectionate hugs and kisses, and can be taught to understand and respond to you – in your language of choice. No Energizer batteries or short life expectancies for these ‘toddies’: with the proper dosage of TLC, these precious little bundles of jollity can enliven and entertain you for as long as you live! Celebrities have discovered these nifty, bubbly thingamajigs, and found to their scatterbrained double delight that they’re so much cheaper than Chihuahuas to afford and maintain, so much more titillating than their techie toys and gizmos, and so much more effective publicity stunts than public break-ups!

Ever since Jolie opened the floodgates with Maddox and Zahara (with the best of intentions, I might add), the Third-World Garage Sale of Toddlers has never fared better, with Madge and Meg Ryan among others cashing in on the once-in-a-lifetime acquisition rates and unspeakably lethargic legal codes, while others like Jessica Simpson and Michael Jackson (?!!) are entertaining tentative thoughts to toe the line. At this rate, the day’s not far off when a visit to a Hollywood celeb’s home will reveal pet poodles and Porsches no longer on display; instead, you’d probably see their arms draped round the tiny shoulders of a bright-eyed tyke and them calling to you, “Have you seen my African toddy? His name’s Chilakazulu from Timbouctou, and he can say ‘I love you’ in American!” Ah, I guess it’s probably more glamorous to have a foreign kid with an unpronounceable name who can speak three syllables of English than to adopt a 4-year-old named Bob from a foster home in down-town Kentucky...