Our daughter is now three months old, and let me tell you, it’s amazing what people sent us. My wife and I come from Northeast liberal families, where many women kept their maiden names after marriage, etc., and we still got package after package of pink, pink pink dresses and frilly knickers and who-knows-what from uncles and aunts.
Dresses for a newborn? It doesn’t even make sense.
My wife and I took the onesies in the best plain hot-pinks and silk-screened octopuses, robots, and man-eating-plants (her namesake, Audrey II) on them, and hid the rest in a cupboard, and now things are better.
