My house currently looks like someone set off a cute, pastel bomb in the middle of it.  I sit on the couch, overwhelmed by the pink, both the cutesy and the shmutsey, and the sheer immensity of the belongings of my unborn child.  Well done, Babies R Us, you have won this round. 

The enormity of the clutter is exacerbated by the ambient clutter that up until now has kept the gravitational pull steady in our apartment.  Boxes of books and papers and things that really ought to be put away orbit around our space, saying cheery hellos to the new clutter, welcoming it warmly.

Recently, however, my resident rodent friends have decided they really like the boxes.  Since all of the students who helpfully left peanut butter and Cheerios on their floors all year have left, the mice have nowhere interesting to go but to my home.  This, again, didn’t bother me so much before except these particular new mice are brazen city dwellers who view me as a predator less and less every day.  Last night one figured out how to climb my coat (that was hanging on a chair) to get eye level with Peter.

“Hey!” He shouted.

“Fool.” Said the mouse.  The others in the box of papers chortled and began talking rather loudly about how the giant creature-man was starting to get uppity. 

Peter and I talked about the situation this morning.  Clearly, we need another bookshelf (because 14 just aren’t enough for the living room).  And a dresser for the progeny’s many clothes.  And a door sweep to keep out the mice.  And, some shelves and other storage solutions.  Actually, while we’re at it, I need groceries because the cafeteria closed and we have no food. 

So I went out to the store today and got the most logical item on the list:  A Nintendo Wii. 

“What?” You ask.  “Wait, that wasn’t on the list!  Shouldn’t you be putting the needs of your unborn ch . . .”

Oh hush.  You and your “logic.”

There is no need for concern, though.  My priorities are firmly established and my responsibilities clear.  Dissertation writing, cleaning, and the millennia-old art, nay, sanctity of motherly preparation is foremost on my mind. 

Which is why I also got an extra numchuck for Wii boxing and have sketched out how I want my avatar representation to look.

And added “Wii Rock Band” to the baby registry.

I figure, who needs a clean, mouse-free house?  Who needs organization?  Who needs another advanced degree?  No one, really.  But who needs to R-O-C-K? 

Indeed. 

I just act accordingly, for the good of my family.