“The color. It’s too…ugh. I can’t even say the word out loud.” When I’ve finished my task, I lay the brush down on the paint cup and rub at the kink that’s forming in my neck. I walk over to look at the wall she’s been painting and notice her nervously biting at her bottom lip. There’s something about those little quirks, the things no one else would likely ever notice, that bring a smile to my face.

“Is it the shade? Or the color itself? Talk to me, Doll.”

Meredith frowns. “I don’t know. After the ultrasound, I was so excited to paint the room pink. Just like mine. I loved it at as girl and I loved thinking she might too.” Meredith rubs her belly.

“And now?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” She sets the roller down in the tray and brings her hands to her hips as she stares at the wall. “You’ll think I’m being crazy.”

“Try me.”

“Well, it’s the same Pepto color as my room and…don’t make fun…but what if we’re setting her up to live the same life I did? I can’t bear the thought of her growing up without a voice.”

I step behind her to rub her neck and shoulders. “If you don’t like the pink, then I say we stop now and go back to the hardware store for something more neutral. Maybe a pale yellow, or pastel stripes? Whatever makes you happy.” I kiss her neck, just below her ear. “But, if you’re worried that we’re somehow going to become your parents and make the same mistakes with our little girl that they made with you, then yes, I think you’re being crazy.”

Meredith raises her chin, inviting me to continue my work. “Really? You don’t think we’re going to make all kinds of mistakes with her?”

I turn her towards me. “Oh no. We’re going to make all kinds of mistakes.” I deposit another kiss. “But they won’t be the same dumb mistakes our parents made with us. She’ll grow up resenting us for entirely new reasons. That’s just the way of it.”

Meredith slaps my chest. “That’s the best you could come up with to make me feel better?”

“What?” I laugh. “I said we could pick out a different color.”

Meredith gives me her not-funny look. “Don’t you have a crib to put together? Or something?”

“The one we found online last night, but haven’t bought yet? No, if I’m honest, putting that together is still on my honey-do list. I guess I figured, seeing as you’re only five months pregnant, I still had time.”

“Oh? That’s the kind of husband and father you plan to be?”

The statement catches me off guard. “What kind?” I ask.

“You know, a procrastinator. One of those men who has to be yelled at to get off his ass and mow the yard, or change the oil in the car, or whatever.”

“Really?” I tap my foot. “If that’s the impression I’ve been giving you, then we need to nip that in the bud right now.” I swoop her up in my arms and carry her across the hall to our bedroom.

“Gabe, careful now, you’ll hurt yourself again,” Meredith warns.

“What? My ribs? They’ve been healed for over a month. Besides—priorities.” I carefully lay her on the bed. “You seem like you need a distraction from the baby’s room, and it’s my duty to oblige.”

Meredith sits up on her elbows. “What about painting?”

“Ahh.” I crinkle my nose. “I’ll do that after I mow the yard and change the oil.” I smile. “Why don’t you come here?”