"Coffee," he said, rubbing his eyes. "We forgot to buy more coffee."
Six different brands, because apparently, some babies prefer to be wrapped like a burrito, while others demand the "arms-up" approach.
The boxes started arriving three months before the "Big Day," turning the guest room into a cardboard labyrinth. Sarah and Mark sat on the floor, armed with a highlighter and a list they’d found online that was forty-seven items deep.
The night they brought Leo home, the house was silent. They looked at the mountain of gear. Leo was wearing a simple, five-dollar cotton sleeper and was fast asleep in a plain wooden bassinet.
A stainless steel tower designed to contain scents that could arguably peel paint.
"Do we really need a wipe warmer?" Mark asked, holding up a sleek plastic box that promised to keep moist towelettes at a balmy ninety-eight degrees.