The Adventures Of Boxcar Baby Pete

Life’s rough when you’re a homeless baby. No blankey for warmth, no boobie for food and no babysitter to wipe your behind. Yup, life’s rough when you’re a transient toddler.

Unless you’re Boxcar Baby Pete, that is.

Nary an infant alive could survive the streets like Baby Pete. Heck, the first night of sleeping in a newspaper vending machine would bring about an untimely end for most tots.

But Pete’s a scrappy crapper and it takes more than a chilly night or a getting hit by a bus to slow down his nomadic crawl. One report suggests Pete escaped the deadly clutches of a street sweeper with only minor cuts on his body and a major story to tell.

While most kids need a spoon disguised as an airplane to trick them into eating – the hobo baby is not picky when it comes meals. As long as the food’s free and doesn’t require a set of teeth to chew – he’ll eat a puddle of Marinara sauce with a half-developed smile on his face…

And a saucy mess on his fat baby cheeks.

Baby-bonnets be damned – Pete has a sun-weathered soft spot on the top of his head that doubles as an ashtray should the occasion arise. And in the back alley poker games of downtown Cityville – it often does. But that’s another story for another time.

Everyone has their own opinion about the local legend of Boxcar Baby Pete. Some say he’s is a living testament to the human will – others say he’s just a creepy midget in a dirty diaper. Nevertheless, the pint-sized vagabond carries on – giggling at stray cats, napping on park benches and projectile vomiting on anyone who doesn’t drop a coin into his sippy cup.