We walked around the empty house, trying to imagine filling it with our lives - our plants and dressers, our separate piles of mail, baby toys of all sizes. The bare floors and rooms left the place with a hollow feel and sound; the things we all fill our homes with take up more than just space. We tried to imagine this place as a home. Eventually, we made our way out to the front yard, standing in the overgrown grass and looking at the house, trying to picture it painted in a more attractive color. Our realtor asked what we thought, and we went over pros and cons, the ways we would have to adjust our dream to fit the reality in front of us. I asked Violet what she thought. I said, “If you think we should take it, say, ‘Blah.’” Strapped to my front in the chest carrier, she was still for a moment, then gave a quiet, “Ba.” I don’t know what to do with that.
289 days old
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