All of this hit me yesterday...
I won't get to bounce the baby on my knee and make up silly songs. ("The Ballad of Princess Fartybutt" was arguably Daddy's finest moment.)
I wont get to hear the baby copy his/her older brother and ask me for "offee" (coffee) or "oda" (soda) as I am drinking it.
I won't get to feel the baby lay his/her head down on my shoulder, just lying there with me.
And all of this, all of this absolutely destroys me, over and over.
(Yes, I know, the "his/her construction may be a bit cumbersome, but I will be damned to hell if I call our baby an "it.")
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