The house that sat on the hillside of a quaint, Connecticut town was odd, to say the least. It had strange angles, odd corners, and a tower attic that overlooked the lawn. The couple that lived there, however, were painfully, unapologetically, boring.
"You. Are. Perfect!" Adam Maitland ran a rag over the freshly stained surface of the crib he'd been restoring for weeks. A real antique! He'd lucked out and found the last bottle of Manchurian tung oil in the attic. This crib was going to be gorgeous! Now if they just had a baby to put in it... He couldn't help but think that this crib was too nice to put a baby in. Maybe this was just his way of pretending he was ready to be a parent. Maybe his perfectionism was standing in the way of-
"Look at these jugs!" His wife, Barbara came bustling in to show him the freshly blasted terra cotta vases she'd made. "Aren't they great!" She cradled them in her arms. She would keep them safe. Maybe put some pretty flowers in them. She loved pottery! Although, she couldn't help but wonder if this hobby wasn't some form of projecting her need to mother something, even if it was an inanimate object with no feelings, but incredibly fragile and thus in need of protection. Could she be replacing having a kid with silly clay bowls? Was she ready to have a kid? Would she ever be ready?!
"Oh Adam. We have everything," She said, flopping down on the sofa. "We have a house, a yard, a minivan. Do you think we're ready to...you know...have a baby?"
Adam froze. "Well...we have a lot left to do, I think. What about the bathroom? And the cracks in the plaster? And...the Wifi!"
"The wifi?"
"Yeah...it should be faster."
"Yeah, and maybe we should learn Spanish or something. We want our kid to be bilingual right?" Barbara smiled and stood. "And we have to get out of debt, first. And the economy is a disaster right now!"
"You. Are. Perfect!" Adam Maitland ran a rag over the freshly stained surface of the crib he'd been restoring for weeks. A real antique! He'd lucked out and found the last bottle of Manchurian tung oil in the attic. This crib was going to be gorgeous! Now if they just had a baby to put in it... He couldn't help but think that this crib was too nice to put a baby in. Maybe this was just his way of pretending he was ready to be a parent. Maybe his perfectionism was standing in the way of-
"Look at these jugs!" His wife, Barbara came bustling in to show him the freshly blasted terra cotta vases she'd made. "Aren't they great!" She cradled them in her arms. She would keep them safe. Maybe put some pretty flowers in them. She loved pottery! Although, she couldn't help but wonder if this hobby wasn't some form of projecting her need to mother something, even if it was an inanimate object with no feelings, but incredibly fragile and thus in need of protection. Could she be replacing having a kid with silly clay bowls? Was she ready to have a kid? Would she ever be ready?!
"Oh Adam. We have everything," She said, flopping down on the sofa. "We have a house, a yard, a minivan. Do you think we're ready to...you know...have a baby?"
Adam froze. "Well...we have a lot left to do, I think. What about the bathroom? And the cracks in the plaster? And...the Wifi!"
"The wifi?"
"Yeah...it should be faster."
"Yeah, and maybe we should learn Spanish or something. We want our kid to be bilingual right?" Barbara smiled and stood. "And we have to get out of debt, first. And the economy is a disaster right now!"