There's no need for my wife and I to sleep in the same bed.
With the long pregnancy pillow, there's not even room.
She's already drawn a face on her pregnancy pillow and glued some hair to make a little beard.
She calls him P.P. and doesn't even talk to me anymore.
When she wakes up in the morning and says, "Good morning, beautiful," I don't even respond from where I'm sleeping on the floor. It's obvious she's talking to P.P.
I guess I didn't really get worried until she asked me to set a space for P.P. since he would joining us for all meals in the future.
And my son is starting to call P.P. papa.
Last night after I put our son to bed, I came downstairs to my wife and P.P. cuddling and giggling on the couch.
When I asked what was so funny, they said, "You wouldn't understand."
I went into the bathroom to cry.
After a few minutes, my wife banged on the door. "Hey, P.P. has to use the bathroom. Shut up and finish whatever you're doing."
I wiped away the tears.
"Just another few months," I said to myself. "Just another few months."