Page 120 of Pregnant in Plaid
Gage snorts. "We've survived combat. This is baby supplies. Completely different skill set."
"We're intelligent, capable men. We can handle a shopping trip."
Famous last words.
Our first stop is Anchorage Sports & Outdoors because, as I brilliantly reasoned to Gage, they sell gear. Baby gear must be a subset of gear in general, right?
Wrong.
We end up in the camping section, staring at tiny sleeping bags.
"These are infant-sized," I say, holding up what's essentially a sleeping bag for a doll. "That's baby gear."
Gage reads the tag. "It's rated for thirty degrees. Your daughter is going to be indoors."
"But what if we go camping?"
"She's four pounds and currently in a NICU. Camping is not in her immediate future."
"You don't know that. Maybe we'll be adventurous parents."
"Trace." Gage takes the sleeping bag from me and puts it back. "We're in the wrong store."
A sales associate approaches, probably drawn by the sound of two grown men arguing about infantcamping equipment. "Can I help you gentlemen find something?"
"We need baby supplies," I say.
He blinks. "Like... a baby backpack carrier?"
"No, like diapers and bottles and—" I consult the list. "Something called a wipe warmer."
The sales associate's face does this thing where he's clearly trying not to laugh. "Sir, you want a baby store. This is a sporting goods store."
"But you have baby sleeping bags."
"Those are for toddlers on family camping trips."
Gage grabs my arm. "Come on. We're leaving."
"But—"
"Now."
We retreat to the truck with zero purchases and one bruised ego.
"Fine," I mutter, starting the engine. "Next stop."
Next is Anchorage Hardware & Home because the list mentions a crib, a changing table, and something called a diaper pail. Hardware stores sell furniture. This is logical.
We find ourselves in the fasteners aisle, staring at approximately nine thousand different types of screws.
"How many screws does a crib need?" Gage asks, holding a packet of what might be the right size.
"I don't know. Enough to keep the baby from falling through?"
"That's not helpful."
I pull out my phone and start Googling crib assembly. The results are terrifying. Videos of grown men weeping over instruction manuals. Forums dedicated to "surviving IKEA baby furniture." A Reddit thread titled "Marriage-Ending Crib Assembly Stories."
