Adoption #3 entry (mentally challenged?)

My journey to my Mom and Dad had several bumps along the road. For some strange reason I was not considered to be a normal healthy child in the orphanage. They (as in whoever makes these types of decisions in Kowloon) thought I was mentally retarded and thus it was decided that I was not ‘fit’ to be adopted by a nice english couple. Lucky for me, my father was a very stubborn and determined sociologist. Definition of sociologist, from the free dictionary on the web: The study of human social behavior, especially the study of the origins, organization, institutions, and development of human society. So it seems, my father hypothesized that a child without any permanent role-models whom had to sit quietly in her crib all day long, while not being sufficiently fed perhaps had some ‘issues’ that did not mean this child was mentally retarded.

My Dad, Reg Robson, as many whom had the pleasure to meeting him while he was alive, would attest that my labelling of him as stubborn and determined is indeed a blessing and sometimes a curse. In this instance, I really benefited from my Dad’s stubborness to prove that I was not mentally retarded