The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag: All Washed Up: (Book 3 in the Misadventures of the Laundry Hag series) Read Free

done this before?”
     “No, my mother and Amber did it all.”
     We stared at each other in a moment of total horror. How could two semi-competent people with teenage kids be so inadequately prepared for the arrival of a baby?
     Neil came to some sort of decision. “Basics then. Food, clothing, shelter.”
     Sounded simple enough. “Shelter is more or less covered. Food, okay, is Penny going to be breast feeding or do we need to buy formula?”
     Neil’s eyes went wide. “Do you really expect me to know the answer to that?”
     I wrinkled my nose. Yeah, somehow I couldn’t see Penny dishing lactation with my former SEAL. “Moving on. Clothing is diapers and wipes, plus pants, shirts, socks. Normal people clothes in miniature. Cripes, why didn’t we get on this sooner?”
     “No time for recriminations now. Let’s each take a task.”
     We split up, Neil in charge of diapers while Kenny searched for wipes and I made a beeline for baby clothes. A sea of bright colors flooded my field of vision. It hit me like a piano from the sky. This little person, my helpless niece or nephew, had nothing, not a single thing in the world. I was in charge of getting baby’s first everything. But what to buy? What would he/she need to start out from scratch?
     I’d been to a few baby showers before, listened to other women ooh and ah and say isn’t that cute so many times it sounded like a room full of Stepford Wives with verbal ticks. I was a jeans and T-shirts sort myself, with the occasional slinky black dress thrown in to mix things up. The multitude of bonnets, overalls, jumpers and onesies just didn’t gel.
     A tiny octogenarian in a blue vest was hanging cute little dresses on a rack. I altered my course and aimed for her full steam ahead.
     “Can I help you?” She smiled sweetly at me.
     “God, I hope so. My brother is having a baby and—”
     “Oh how, lovely,” she cooed, giving me a full frontal of the coral lipstick on her dentures. “Boy or girl?”
     “We don’t know yet. But I need to buy some clothing. Some of everything a newborn needs. Can you help me, um…?”
    “Edith.” She pointed at her Hello, my name is badge. I felt like a jackass for overlooking it.
    “Nice to meet you, Edith. I’m Maggie. Can you help me?” Question of the decade.
    “You’ve never had a baby?” She eyed me critically.
    Under normal circumstances I would have cracked a joke about how they’re crunchy and delightful with ketchup, but Edith didn’t look like the type to get my whacked-out sense of humor so I just answered with a firm, “No.”
    “Well, don’t leave it too long, dear. My friend Thelma, God rest her soul, her daughter waited until she was forty to get married and then she couldn’t do it the natural way and she spent a thousand dollars to get that…oh, what’s it called?”
    I stared blankly, afraid to make a suggestion.
    She tapped her chin and I noticed an extra-long whisker that curled down from her lip. Scary. “Oh, I know this. Ah, envitrio fertilization, that’s it!”
    “Sure,” I muttered, unwilling to sully her triumph.
    “Anyway, she wound up with six babies, all at once. Just two short of that Octomom character. Can you imagine?”
    Right now that sounded like the sixth circle of hell, the level right above Walmart. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, can we deal with the baby who is actually coming?”
    Another flash of the coral chompers, which I took for an agreeable smile. “Of course, dear. Now, you’ll need diapers and wipes, rash cream, onesies, socks, booties, a sleeper pouch, long sleeve T-shirts, pants….” As she wandered off down the aisle, still prattling, she snagged assorted items and shoved them into my arms.
     I juggled the load and bumped into Josh, new mitt in hand. “For the love of God, grab a cart!” I hissed.
     He rolled his eyes in the way only an adolescent boy can. “Chillax, Mom. Baby won’t explode if you forget something.”
     Next