Tomorrow, August 26, 2004 – a date that will live in infamy – the Kauffman household will be visited by men who will take away our extra king sized bed. As many of you may know, this is an event we have not come upon lightly. Opposing forces have repeatedly skirmished over the fate of that precious space: the baby’s room. Neutral arbiters have weighed in with their opinions, both in person and on the phone, and good sense, it seems, has won the day. But what room does good sense leave for sentiment, for history, for commitment? The bed, which was bought because an expectant mother sought comfort while her first child nurtured in her womb, is to be ushered out as the second child follows in the footsteps of the first.

I have been asked why we should keep this thing, a bed we no longer use and which takes up too much room. None of my reasons have been very good, or practical. What room is there for sentiment when matters are merely practical? Apparently there isn’t any in a baby’s room.

I am a fool. It is only a bed.

The husband in this episode is going through his sock drawer, looking to pack some socks for his bicycle ride to work the next morning,

“Cheryl, where did all of these dress socks come from?”

“They were preserved in their original packaging, nestled safely in the back of your closet.”

“Hmm, those are pretty cool.”

Cheryl, filled nearly to bursting with baby, was flushed with vindication.

Cheryl and I have been looking forward to having another child for several years now. If all goes well, that wait will end sometime in the next eight weeks. Sometime, two months from now, we’ll be getting out of bed prematurely thinking: “what the hell were we thinking?” We’ll be sitting on the couch relaxing with a baby in our arms, enjoying a moment of peace unlike any other. We’ll be reintroduced to smells that have no business being in your home. We’ll be peeking through a crack in the door to check up on our sleeping child, our hearts skipping a beat not from fear, but bliss. We’ll be good and ready for the crying to finally stop. We’ll be in a rush for the camera when Beth finally agrees to hold her sibling for the first time. We’ll be pulling out our hair trying to get everyone ready in the morning before work. We’ll be happily doing our own thing throughout the house in those odd moments when life slows down.

I’m glad for the good and I’m a little scared of the bad, but I’m ready to take them both.