Earlier, I wrote about the impending stock up for baby stuff. We were being sent gifts from across the country and my wife and I went out shopping.
Today we stopped at my in-laws’ house to drop off some dessert from a Labor Day cookout and I saw a huge Rubbermaid-style tub in their living room. It was next to a gift wrapped in Christmas paper. Yup. Christmas paper. It’s September.
I turned to my wife and asked about the gift. She swore it wasn’t for the baby or either of us for use with the baby. It was in no way baby related, she assured.
“What about the tub?” I asked.
She was quiet.
“What about the tub?” I was smiling, the way people do when they are playfully catching someone in a lie. I was in no way mad. Just curious to see how forthcoming she would be, because she knows I like to complain in a fun way about all the stuff we are someday going to have for ONE baby.
“It has some baby things in it.”
“Is it full?” I asked wryly.
“No,” she said. She was somewhat convincing, too.
“Is it full?” I repeated it to see if I could get her to break the honest look on her face.
I opened it. It was full. Full of clothes and stuffed animals including something called a Mommy Bear. Turn it on and it plays the recorded sound of an adult heartbeat from a sonogram to mimic the sound of being inside the mother’s womb. It’s for the crib. We don’t have a crib yet.
I don’t care if there’s a tub full of baby stuff at my in-laws’ house. I know it’s only the first one. Of many. That’s OK. If that is all I have to complain about — that this baby will be showered with gifts — then I have it real easy. I just don’t like to be kept in the dark about things. There’s no reason to hide it from me like some wives feel they need to hide purchases from their husbands.
Actually, most of the baby clothes and other items will have to be kept over at my in-laws’ house, because they will be gender specific. My wife and her mother both want to know the gender of our unborn. I do not. But I will be amazed if we make it to the delivery room and the baby’s gender is a complete surprise to me. Everyone but me is gunning for a girl (of course we will be happy with either boy or girl), and I know I will be able to tell from my wife’s mood the day she finds out. She will be so forlorn if it’s a boy. The irony to that is we had a much easier time picking out boy names than we did girl names.