Drowning in Onesies

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Last month I spent an epic weekend just washing baby clothes. I then promptly took all those clean and dry adorable little outfits and dumped them on the bed in the nursery. Every now and then I’d poke my head in and look at the pile. Then my brain would melt into a gibbering pile of gray matter, the words NOPE NOPE NOPE repeating over and over in my head until I shut the door again. It was like gazing upon the face of an Eldritch Abomination. No amount of reassuring myself that it’s just a pile of wee baby clothes would help.  Because it’s not just clothes.  This is more than clothes.  This is a disorganized universe, and I will bring order to it, BY THE HAMMER OF THOR.

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