Ever since I got engaged, The Beast has been gathering baby supplies.
During ensuing 4+ years she has never anxiously asked if and when she'll get her first grandchild, but has instead patiently amassed untold quantities of childrens books, toys and clothing.
It is, by any reckoning, moderately creepy.
I suppose in many ways I am lucky -- most women her age are a source of constant questions regarding when the next generation will begin and what awful family forenames the offspring will bear. The Beast does not trouble herself with such inquiries. She instead ravages the infant and toddler sections of Gap, Sears and Target.
I have seen only a fraction of the things already purchased, and it already wildly outdistances any purchases ever made for me.
Whereas I was expected to happily attend school with imitation Converse (minus the laces) or imitation Roo Shoes (minus the velcro), my future children with be lavishly showered (minus the water) with a wide variety of one-piece velour tracksuits and blue jeans with snaps up the sides.
Watching all of these gifts get dispensed is going to be like watching the disarming of Germany. I can only hope that she has accidentally put some stuff for me in these boxes.
If memory serves, I only received 145 of the possible 147 Transformer action figures. There's still time to complete the set.
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