The morning sun streamed through the condo windows, illuminating a living room that looked more like a warehouse than a home. Stacks of baby supplies, crib parts, and unopened boxes of diapers were scattered across the floor. Michael stood in the center of the chaos, hands on his hips, eyes scanning the scene as if it were a battlefield.
Marnie leaned against the doorframe, her hands on her slightly swollen belly, and observed the spectacle. “Michael… relax,” she said softly, her voice tinged with amusement. “It’s just a nursery, not a surgery room.”
Michael’s jaw tightened. “Marnie, do you see this?” he exclaimed, gesturing to a pile of unassembled cribs. “These cribs have screws, bolts, and labels. If I assemble them incorrectly, even slightly, it could compromise safety! Safety, Marni
