Awash in Pink

In anticipation of our daughter’s coming out party later this month, my wife has been dutifully washing all of the baby clothes that we’ve received from family, friends, and friends of friends. The first grandchild of either side of the family, I expected her to be bestowed with innumerable gifts from these impending relations, however I was taken back by the micro clothing bounty from friends and friends/friends. Our child will not go naked, which is a pledge that I plan on enforcing her whole life.

The key to non-nakedness is clothing, which I now come back to in expert literary fashion. My wife’s laundering was interrupted by a social engagement, so she asked me to insert myself in the process by transferring the clothes from the washer to the dryer.

Now, I’ve been washing clothes since my early teens, when I reluctantly learned the skill from my impressively crafty parents. During that time, I’ve had my fair share of mishaps involving global chromatic change, however I have never seen my wife make such a rookie mistake. Thus, I was quite surprised by what I saw when I lifted the lid of the washer - the entire load had turned pink!

Of course, I never should have doubted my wife’s ability, for the pink hue was no mistake. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the clothes were supposed to be pink. Sure, I hear pink is a popular color these days for baby girl accoutrements, but I didn’t realize our daughter-to-be was going to be awash in it.

The truth is, my wife and I never set out to procure a uni-pigmented wardrobe – it just kind of happened. In order to reassure myself that I our baby would not be subjected to such outright color bias, I went to the baby closet to examine the rest of her diminutive duds. Hmm. I hope our child likes pink, although she should be used to it after nine months in her rose-colored uterine apartment.