The wee one is happy all the time, like someone is always telling her jokes. She makes little yodeling sounds at her feet when you leave her by herself, and then when you come back into her field of vision she greets you enthusiastically with rapid, staccato coos. This is what we call her “baby story.” “The cat licked my head! The rug tastes good! I got half of my foot in my mouth!” She’s trying to sit up now, and when I hold her on my lap she rocks furiously back and forth, like I’m a mechanical bull.

I have visited Home Depot’s web site approximately one thousand times since our offer was accepted. Visions of red granite countertops and frosted glass cabinet fronts dance through my dreams.