Midnight Assembly Required

So apparently at 8.5 months pregnant, I’ve entered full panic mode. The nursery is half-painted (started three weeks ago, lost steam at wall number two), the hospital bag sits empty in our closet, and Marcus decided 2am was the perfect time to tackle crib assembly.

Midnight Assembly Required

I found him surrounded by Allen wrenches and what appears to be 847 different screws, consulting YouTube like it’s the holy grail of furniture construction. “Babe, I got this,” he said, holding up a piece that was clearly upside down. The confidence was admirable. The execution… less so.

There’s something surreal about folding onesies that look like they belong on dolls while your fiancé mutters Swedish curse words at furniture instructions. Are babies really this small? How do they even survive being this tiny? These are the thoughts that keep me up at night, apparently.

Marcus looked at me at 2am surrounded by Allen wrenches and baby blankets and said “we’re going to be great at this” and I love him but NOTHING about this scene suggests competence. But hey, at least we’ll have stories to tell this kid someday.