empty space...covered in babyiness

Oh my, the stuff. The baby stuff. Everywhere. Colored tent with no sides, swingy seat, Bumbo, squeaky toys, battery operated fuzzy toys, toys for biting and bending, pajamas, coats, socks that do and don’t look like shoes, amusing hats with bunny ears, onesies, twosies, quilts, both store bought and handmade, books - some still in the plastic, rattles, pacifiers, cleaning supplies, lotions, bathtubs, formula, bottles, both small and large, extra diapers — plus of course, there’s the stuff belonging to us that has been displaced or disused as a result of the occupying baby’s needs. It is a scene, man, I can assure you. And there’s not an iota of blame to place on the actual baby; it’s all us. And somehow it fits all in the front room of the house. Heather should never of gone on vacation, she will not like how I redecorated. Perhaps she will think twice before she takes my daughter for two weeks without me.