No brainer, as I am in NO WAY in a position to know how to deal with a baby.
Call 911 immediately.
Check to see if note is written by “Sylvia”.
This, exactly.
…
Call my husband, “Honey, it’s for you!”
Panic.
Call 911.
Panic until help arrives.
(I may be female but I don’t do babies in any way shape or form)
I am afraid my father instinct would kick in if I rescued an abondon baby. I would probably keep it until it hit the terrible twos and then set it on my neighbors door step.
You would eat it? Ewwww, that’s gross.
I would just murder it and then have sex with the body for the next couple of weeks.
1 Observer surrounding
2 Take baby in and check for immediate need and anything else left.
3 Look at baby and have a conservation letting the baby know what has happened (as they may not understand those things of this world yet, but can sometimes make decisions as to their preference).
4 Would consider the Baby’s request and the practicalities, but would also google what is the legality in these situations (as we all know that google is the source of all law, from the beginning, as they created a time machine in the near future, which started all civilization which all laws were spawned, which gave rise to them).
5a,b,c,d, & e… Things diverge from here.
Give baby $100 and “how to be a man” talk, set free at bus station.
Years later receive a bouquet of power tools and beer with a concise and powerful thank you note.
This, plus extra panic and a hell of a lot of confusion, being female and asexual.
Good answer.
Better answer.
Best answer!
I’d keep it. It’d give me a reason to watch Thomas the Train again.
Who says “I” would eat it? I don’t particularly care for veal, but I know people who do, people that I really don’t like, but have to entertain from time-to-time. Sometimes Jonathan Swift makes a lot of sense.
Is anyone else reading the thread title to the tune of Skip To My Lou?
As an involuntarily celibate menopausal woman, it would be impossible for me to have a child and not know it. 
However, if a baby was left on my porch, I would call 911 and let the authorities deal with it. There are people who do emergency foster care, although chances are, the baby would go to the hospital first for a thorough checkup, and then the local news would be alerted in order to try and find at least one of the parents.
Raise baby in a cupboard under the stairs and hope he doesn’t turn out to have magical powers.
I’d recoil in horror just from hearing the doorbell ring. Then my two murderous and ravenous chihuahuas would yap their heads off and chase the trespasser off the property, ideally before leaving any babies.
Text boyfriend, who does not live with me. Have discussion about whether we’re going to keep the baby or the current foster dog, who we are both quite fond of. I’m not sure I’m up to coping with four dogs and an infant, and three of the dogs are permanent.
Call my midwife friend. She’ll know what to do with a baby, because I sure don’t. Though she seems to be psychic about when things go awry with me and often calls out of the blue when I most need her.
Call 911.
39 posts and no one yet has said ‘trebuchet’…?
(…just kidding…) 