I ran an adult orphanage that collected lost boys ages 18 to 100. Sadly, I was unable to sustain funding for my philanthropic project. Demand outpaced need, and donors prioritized other causes. We had to close our doors after the pandemic. Leaving my surrogate sons unfed, unhoused, unhugged and feeling less loved. They are withering away like Communist-period Romanian orphans without support.
They affectionately called me Mama Sophia because I exuded nurturance and everybody's hooyo energy. Though being a natural 'giver' resulted in caregiver fatigue. So, I was relieved my project ended, as it allowed me to transition from a stressed hooyo of a never-ending supply of adult males to a child-free habo with a very elaborate and expensive self-care routine.
Having left that life behind, I was surprised to receive a call from a Foundling Hospital. I wasn't even aware they still existed. @Vapour listed me as an emergency contact. When I arrived, to my shock and dismay, he was fastened tightly in an oversized bassinet and swaddled by one of the kind nurses. I had to give her flowers for placing a 6’4, 240 lb lad into that contraption without the assistance of a bouncer-sized orderly.
Anyway, I wondered if any of you ladies wanted to restart an orphanage for forgotten young Adults, Adeers, and Awowos. I’m willing to hand over the baton.
Anyway, I wondered if any of you ladies wanted to restart an orphanage for forgotten young Adults, Adeers, and Awowos. I’m willing to hand over the baton.
you freak
This featherweight could be blown away. He doesn't have what it takes to survive one day of work. 
