Naija regarded her husband with a pointed look, somewhere between annoyed and skeptical. Well, maybe it was just annoyed. "First of all," she said, enunciating as she took the booties out of his hand, "those are booties, not socks. Second of all," --she threw them back on the pile they came from-- "they're ugly as sin."
Frowning, Naija set down the basket on a rainbow of folded onesies next to her and crossed her arms over her chest. "Really, you act like I'm torturing you when, let me remind you, just weeks ago you were the one that couldn't get over that we were having children. Now I'm asking you one thing, one simple thing, and that is to help me prepare for that ever-approaching date, and all you can give me is 'I like these socks?'"
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