One Room's Worth of Baby, Please

They're not even here, and they're leaving their crap all over the place. Don't get me wrong, it's nice crap, clean and expensive. But we now have a solid roomful of stuff of various colors, fabrics and childishness. A closet slammed with onesies, a crib full of diapers (which will still be insufficient for the refuse catching), and a pile of toys I'm just waiting for the dogs to swallow and then vomit on the stairs.

However, the shear volume of stuff is starting to really drive home the concept of twins. We have two vibrating seats resting next to each other on the floor. I've never seen anything themed like a little white lamb emit such a sense of foreboding. There's little ears surrounding the spots where little heads will rest and, god willing, sleep. It probably doesn't help that the chime one of the toys gives off sounds like a clown laughing. Not a cute clown, like Krusty, one that you'd have to fight your way past in a zombie game. It's as if I was watching Wringle in Time and those creepy twins were replaced with Porkchop and they really want to play, or start singing a song without an end. They just started singing it not knowing what it was; and they'll continue signing it forever... or at least until they turn 18, get a tattoo, and move in with their boyfriend, Ricky. And It's not like I'll really have any grounds to dislike Ricky, he's a nice bright kid, but he'll remind me too much of myself at 19. I remember what I was like at 19, and I don't trust him.

I still haven't decided what to call the double stroller. I'm torn between the Nimitz, the Bismark, the Nautilus, the Siren's Call, the MDS Valdez, Revenge, A Stroller Named Desire, and The Behemoth.

Plus, I can already tell the car seats and I aren't going to get along. I was the proud recipients of a paper cut opening the box. There's an engineering part of my brain that's in awe of the child protective stuff though. So many latches, and triggers, and interlocking straps, and layers of adjustment all interlinked and woven into a chair nicer than any I've sat in. Plus, the whole thing is made like a motorcycle helmet, sleek comfortable and made of space age foams designed to turn an "Oh F**k!" into a "Whoa! Wait, wha?"