Ask Dr. Eldritch

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Don't fall victim to vampires! Don't get slashed by a psycho! Don't get stuck, ASK DR. ELDRITCH!

Dear Dr. Eldritch,
Ask Dr. Eldritch CrimeBaby     I'm a police detective. Well, I was before I reincarnated, now I'm a baby. It's terrible! Try typing an email with the motor skills of an infant! I can't talk, can barely roll myself over. It's humiliating. I'm back to whapping myself in the face with a rattle. Man, I need a smoke...

But here's the deal: After thirty years on the force, I can tell when something's going down. I'm sure Old Man Gufstason next door is being set up by his twenty-six-year-old "girlfriend" for some sort of scam. He's a retired bank executive, knows everything about international financial markets. I bet a background check on "Trixie" would show she's not the innocent minister's-daughter she pretends to be, but who's going to listen to a baby?

In this crappy situation there is one ray of hope. Last week I had a new babysitter, Chelsea, and I think she can hear my thoughts! I was staring at her chest (hey, I was hungry), and she said "Okay, I'll get your bottle." Then she gave me a look like she couldn't believe what had just happened. I tried to get her to acknowledge she could hear me, but she put me down for a nap and the next thing I know, my parents are home and Chelsea's gone. We could team up; I've got the know-how and she can do things I can't, like talk, drive, and change my diapers. We'd be perfect for stakeouts; who's going to suspect a nanny and a baby? I'm sure I can convince her if I see her again.

Damn! Someone's coming. They think I'm napping and I'm not supposed to touch DaDa's computer. Let me know what I can do to contact Chelsea again. And any chance you could sneak me a bottle of whiskey while you're at it? Even a little one?

-- Det. Robert "Rock" Brannon, a.k.a. "Andy Jr."

Dear Andy Jr.,
    Sorry, Champ, no whiskey for you! The good news is that the variety of baby foods has increased tremendously since the last time you went around. Try the pear and winter squash mix, I'm told it will knock your booties off.

Lest you think I'm making light of your situation (okay, I'm going to laugh a little), let me point out that you're part of a growing trend. Did you know that at the current rate of growth, within ten years quirky investigators will outnumber criminals? Starting with Sister Mary Forgiveness, the crime-solving "Nun with a Gun," the legions of differently-abled, mismatched, obsessive-compulsive, or otherwise oddball sleuths has only increased, each more unusual than the last. And it's not just humans; there's a massive Armillaria fungus in western Washington that recently got a Private Investigator's license and broke a Canadian placebo-drug smuggling ring.

So here's my advice: Just don't. Does the world really need a crime-solving baby? With the memories from your previous life, you obviously feel driven toward investigation work now. But why pass up the freedom of being a child again? Maybe you'll find you want to be an artist or musician in this incarnation, so bang the pot lids together and smear the fingerpaints about! If you get to go through childhood and adolescence with the wisdom of an adult, you can enjoy the fun parts without having to make the painful mistakes! Doesn't that sound more enjoyable than snooping through trash cans or getting roughed up by a crime lord's minions? And I shudder to think what Hollywood would do with your story if they got hold of it...

Nor are you the only one who can sense when someone isn't telling the whole truth. Much is revealed by what you're NOT saying; you're thinking you can avenge your death, aren't you? You want to find the scumbag who shot you two days before retirement. (Surprised that I can tell? Believe me, this happens a lot.) It's normal to want revenge, but you probably had a new partner, despite your insistence that you work best alone, right? It's up to him or her to solve that case, not you. I know you probably thought your partner could be outwitted by a bagel, but it's out of your hands.

So turn your attention to enjoying your new childhood! Learn to walk before you run after bad guys. You'll have lots to entertain you; did you know they have exercise shows for babies now? Give them a try, and maybe you can get past that face-whapping stage sooner. Until then, stick with the plush toys...

Good luck, and let me know how it comes out!

-- Dr. Eldritch

(DISCLAIMER: Anyone intelligent enough to be reading this should understand 1) Satire, and 2) That following the advice given may result in physical, mental, or spiritual harm to beings living, dead, or undead. The author does not suggest that anyone other that the originator of any given letter follow his advice, and cannot be held liable if anyone else does.
If you need more, read this Advanced Disclaimer!) All content © 2010 Evan Nichols