Before Big A left, we hit up the local baby superstore to register for all the baby crap that apparently people want to buy us. Let me tell you – that was one eye-opening experience. For real.
There is an extreme mental block I have with the thing. I think it’ll all be over at the due date. Like things are going to go back to normal the first week of July when in fact that’s when things just get started. Possibly get out of control.
So looking at cribs and high chairs and bedding and car seats and strollers and diapers and clothes and shit made that mental block sort of explode and I was totally overwhelmed. Heart racing, ready to pee my pants, deep breaths necessary overwhelmed. We have zero idea what we’re doing here. Does it need this shit? What the hell is that thing for? I’m not going to cut its damn fingernails, what if I hack the creepy finger off?! You’re supposed to brush its gums?
Did I ever want to hightail it out of that place.
I don’t know the difference between necessities and frivolousities, good and bad, safe or unsafe. If it looked good, we scanned it. If it cracked us up (hello, Andy Bernard baby outfits) we scanned it. If we saw someone else scan it, WE F^&#ING SCANNED IT. But it got all kinds of crazy up in there. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone who heard us in-store followed us out to the parking lot, wrote down our license plate and called up CPS to warn them in advance.
WHY ARE THERE 47 DIFFERENT KINDS OF BOTTLES?! HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHICH ONES TO BUY??
YOU’RE NOT GOING TO REGISTER FOR THE SERTA MATTRESS?? MIGHT AS WELL LET HIM SLEEP ON A ROCK.
WHAT THE HELL DO YOU DO WITH 23 DIFFERENT TYPES OF BLANKETS?!
DO THEY WEAR SOCKS??
IF THE CHANGING TABLE IS TOO CLOSE TO THE CRIB IS HE GOING TO SHOOT THE PEE INTO IT LIKE TARGET PRACTICE?? IT’S A VALID QUESTION.
YEAH, LET’S BUY HIM THE NEWBORN CUPCAKE TOY THAT WEIGHS A POUND AND WATCH HIM SMACK HIMSELF IN THE FACE WITH IT. WHY DOES THIS EXIST??
WHAT THE F@$% IS A BUMBO?!
HELL YEAH, REGISTER FOR THE BUTT PASTE!!
And holy shit, don’t even get me started on the breast pump section. I straight up sprinted into another aisle like I was racing Usain Bolt.
Oh shit, I’m hyperventilating again.
We totally registered for Jorts diapers, though. I mean, seriously. How could we deprive him of those?