"You want me to do what with my mouth?" Mark gasped, looking at the nasal aspirator.
"What?" she whispered, terrified they’d missed a crucial piece of plastic. baby stuff list to buy
By week thirty-six, the room was a sea of pastel. There were (because buttons are the enemy at 3:00 AM), a white noise machine that sounded like a rushing waterfall, and a breast pump that looked like it belonged in a high-tech lab. "You want me to do what with my mouth
"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. There were (because buttons are the enemy at
Mark looked at the high-tech wipe warmer, still unplugged in the corner. Then he looked at Sarah. "We forgot the one thing that wasn't on the list."
Next came the . They had spent four Saturdays test-driving them like they were buying a luxury SUV. They settled on one with "all-terrain suspension," even though their primary terrain was a flat sidewalk leading to a coffee shop.
"The internet says cold wipes make babies cry like they’ve been touched by an icicle," Sarah replied, checking it off.